


The People of the Sun

by hippolarium



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Colonialism, Developing Friendships, F/M, Gen, Mostly Canon Compliant, Northuldra Culture, basically a lot of missing lore, enchanted forest, some themes of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25662802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hippolarium/pseuds/hippolarium
Summary: "We are called Northuldra. We are the people of the Sun."After decades of conflict, the kingdom of Arendelle and the Northuldra tribe have finally declared an end to the bloodshed and agreed to peace. But the road to long-lasting peace is neither painless nor clear. And for two nations standing on the precipice of change, the heralds of the future lie in an unlikely friendship between a young prince eager to prove his worth, and a Northuldra girl with a big secret.A slightly AU fic where Agnarr is invited to visit the Enchanted Forest alongside the Arendellian delegation for a year.
Relationships: Agnarr & Iduna (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 19





	1. crossing the threshold

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i wanna say a MASSIVE thank you to the agduna fandom for filling in the content void as quickly as you guys did, can you believe we have a filter in the relationships section now???? i watched frozen at the end of last year and obviously i loved it, but like so many of you guys, i could not stop thinking about agnarr and iduna's story. i especially loved the addition of the northuldra, i truly believe there's so much potential for world-building, and i kinda wish they fleshed it out a bit. so here's my take on agnarr and iduna's first meeting in the forest (and a bit of extra lore peppered in here and there). i hope you guys like it!!

The cold air stung bitterly on the young prince’s cheeks as he rode behind his father, and not for the first time that morning, he silently regretted not bringing a scarf with him. Father had insisted against it; he was to wear his best attire to this visit, and a scarf would not suit him. This was the first time Arendelle was attempting diplomatic relations with the Northuldra, and it was important, Father had said, that each delegate appeared every bit as civilised as their kingdom presented itself to be. 

It was a small price to pay, Agnarr supposed, for the honour of the invitation. This was also the first time he had been allowed to join his father in the affairs of ruling Arendelle. He knew that there had been some resistance from the High Council; he was still a boy who ought to be in the Palace with his school books and tutors. But Father believed that he was ready. That was all that mattered. And he was eager to prove to everyone that Father’s trust was well placed. 

Agnarr swallowed his nerves and focused on the woodland surrounding the group of delegates instead. He took in the array of white-blanketed trees, the droplets of frozen dew on the low-hanging branches of the willows, the shimmering frost on the pine as the first rays of morning breached the horizon. He marvelled at the snow-covered mountains in the far-off distance, almost glowing against the sunrise, and the clear surface of the river winding just a few paces ahead of them. The fine sprinkle of snowflakes dusting over his coat and his horse’s mane, as if the whole scene was some tableau inside one of his snow globes back at home. Winter in Arendelle could be beautiful, but the whole forest was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

“I can’t believe people get to  _ live  _ here,” he said aloud to no one in particular.

Father glanced back at him before pulling back to ride alongside him. Agnarr immediately straightened in his seat and looked solemn, but Father only chuckled. “Easy, boy. The forest is quite charming during winter, isn’t it?”

Agnarr grinned at his father and nodded. “Just like a painting we’d frame in the Great Hall. I have to say, in all my reading and preparation about the Northuldra, none of my books could have prepared me for just how lovely the Enchanted Forest is,” he said dreamily.

“The Northuldra Forest. There is nothing ‘enchanted’ about this place, or its people,” he corrected, his voice taking on the stony edge of a king. Agnarr shrank back almost immediately, his gaze dropping to his hands at the reins. Then the King sighed and his voice softened. “I want you to be careful, Agnarr. Their forest may be picturesque, but the Northuldra are not like us. They are a fearsome tribe of people who fight with the carcasses of their kills and the spoils of their battles. A race of backwards people. We may be here on diplomatic terms, but they are still very dangerous. One wrong step could be your last. I want you to act with what’s up here,” he said, pointing to his head. “Do you understand?”

He looked at the King, a little hesitant, but nodded solidly. “Yes, Father.”

Father smiled at that and reached over to clasp his shoulder firmly. “I knew I could count on you, son. Now, aren’t you glad I pulled you out of your Gallic studies so you could learn horseback riding at the turn of the new year?”

As Agnarr spoke idly with Father about his lessons and his favourite horse (which had not yet been trained for riding through the slippery slopes of a winter woodland, and so had to be left behind), he felt the nerves in his stomach settle a little. Yes, there were many times Father had played the part of the stoic-faced King, the daunting figure of strength and justice that ruled his kingdom with an iron fist. But he was also the man who loved him fiercely, who had always sought to bring out the best version of his son even when Agnarr himself couldn’t see it.

Eventually, they arrived at a clearing where a small group of men and women stood tall, waiting to greet them. Most of them were well into maturity, with white hair and weathered features, wearing large white coats of some kind of animal hide. The women wore pants underneath their coats, as opposed to the woollen skirts he had come to expect of the women in Arendelle, and all except one wore some fuzzy hat. The man in the middle stood a little in front of the others, with stern eyes and his long white hair loose over his back. He regarded the approaching delegation coolly as they stopped a little distance away and dismounted from their horses.

“Chin up, boy,” Agnarr heard Father mumble as he reached out to correct his posture. Agnarr straightened up immediately as he fell into step with him.

“King Runeard,” the man in the middle greeted as they approached. “I am Dorste, Chieftain of the Northuldra.” Then he went around introducing the other five elders that accompanied him, each the patriarch or matriarch of the major clans within the tribe. “We welcome Arendelle to our home.” Then Chief Dorste held out his hand. “I am told that it is customary for Arendellians to shake hands in order to signify good relations. Please, allow me.”

Father chuckled good-naturedly and accepted the chief’s hand. “Indeed, Chief Dorste. Thank you for agreeing to have us.” He gestured to Agnarr. “This is my son, Prince Agnarr, Crown Prince of Arendelle.”

Agnarr offered the Chief a warm smile and shook his hand. “I am honoured to be here, Chief Dorste. Your home is quite beautiful. You must be delighted to have the privilege of gazing upon such magnificent sights every day,” he said, surprised at how steady his voice was despite the pounding of his heart.

The Chief returned his smile, his eyes softening. “You arrived on a peaceful day, Prince Agnarr. Today, the Spirits have permitted our Forest to appear magnificent, perhaps to win your favour. On most days, there is no predicting whether our Forest will be as scenic as you find it, or as mischievous as our children’s games,” he said, much to the amusement of the other Northuldra leaders. Although he didn’t find the comment as funny as the Northuldra, Agnarr soon found himself laughing along with the Arendellian delegates. Regardless, it had its intended effect; the icy atmosphere that had been present in the clearing as soon as they had arrived had thawed a little bit.

“Allow me to introduce the rest of the delegation,” his father continued once the laughter had died down, flashing him a proud look. Agnarr returned it with a wide grin, before quickly schooling his features back into an appropriate level of amicability. It was not becoming of a ruler to show too much emotion, Father always said. 

The King introduced the three Councillors who had been invited on the trip, as well as Lieutenant Matthias, the head of the Crown Guard. At the introduction, Lt. Matthias and his small squad of four guards bowed. The leaders of both groups exchanged some more pleasantries before Chief Dorste gestured for everyone to follow. “Come, I’m sure you are all eager to get out of the cold. We have much to discuss,” he said.

Agnarr stepped forward to follow, when he felt his father’s hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it is best if you use this opportunity to familiarise yourself with the Forest, Agnarr,” he said coolly.

Agnarr met his gaze in confusion, a protest already forming on his lips. But he bit down his words when Father’s eyes flashed sternly, and he was reminded of the small audience around them. He paused and quickly reeled his emotions back in— _ conceal, don’t feel _ —and considered his next move carefully. “With all due respect, this meeting also presents itself as an opportunity for my own learning and education. If you would allow it, Father, I think there is much knowledge to be gleaned from being an observer to such a meeting,” he said.

The King’s eyes softened in sympathy. “You make an excellent point, my son,” he said. “But today is a day of beginnings of all kinds,” he continued, his gaze skirting over the other Councillors who were watching the scene warily. “It is best to leave such beginnings in the hands of the wisest.”

_ Convincing my Council to allow you to join was difficult enough _ , was what was left unsaid. Agnarr swallowed thickly and hid his disappointment, nodding in resignation. “Yes, Father,” he said, his voice the tiniest bit sullen.

Father patted his shoulder twice and smiled at him. “Lt. Matthias,” he called the soldier behind him. “Please make sure Prince Agnarr doesn’t get into too much trouble while we’re away.”

“If it pleases you, King Runeard, I can arrange for one of my people to join Prince Agnarr and Lt. Matthias to show them around the Forest,” the Chief said.

“That won’t be necessary,” the King replied, almost too quickly. “I would hate to be a disturbance, and I’m sure Prince Agnarr feels the same. Lt. Matthias has been guarding our family for years, he is more than capable of keeping my son safe. But thank you for the offer, Chief Dorste.”

Soon enough, Agnarr was left standing in the snow with only the lieutenant to keep him company. Once everyone was out of sight, he whirled around to face him, dropping his facade of formality. “I don’t need some glorified babysitter,” he snapped, storming past the lieutenant.

Lt. Matthias only sighed tiredly. “I understand why you’re upset, Your Highness. But you must’ve known that it would come to this. You’re not even old enough to attend the High Council meetings back in Arendelle, the chances of attending a foreign relations meeting are even slimmer,” he said in a measured tone.

“Why else would I be here if not to actually  _ do _ something?” Agnarr continued angrily, pacing around the clearing. “If I had known I’d be standing around like some, some  _ child _ -”

“Prince Agnarr, you  _ are _ a child,” Lt. Matthias pointed out.

“ _ I’m fourteen! _ ” he exploded, his voice cracking on the last syllable. Lt. Matthias raised his eyebrow at him, as if his point had just been proven. He shot the lieutenant a scathing look. “Do  _ not _ patronise me.”

A small chortle escaped the lieutenant before he coughed roughly and straightened up. “I haven’t said a word,” he said, clearly stifling his laughter. Agnarr growled in frustration and marched towards the trees. “Where do you think you’re going?” he heard Lt. Matthias from behind him.

“To find better company,” he hollered back. “At least the trees won’t mock me for growing up,  _ like I’m supposed to _ !”

He heard Lt. Matthias mumble something under his breath, before his footsteps picked up pace behind him. “Prince Agnarr, wait up,” he called tiredly. “You shouldn’t wander too far on your own-”

“Then you shouldn’t have tested me when I was already in a sour mood,” he snarled, whirling around to face the lieutenant. Despite the latter being the taller and more imposing figure, Agnarr refused to back down, meeting the older man’s gaze with fire. But if Lt. Matthias was perturbed by the intensity of his anger, he didn’t show it. Instead, his eyes betrayed a sad kind of pity. Which, of course, annoyed Agnarr even more.

He stepped away first and turned his back on the lieutenant. “I’m going for a walk,” he said brusquely, heading deeper into the forest.

Behind him, Lt. Matthias sighed again, but didn’t protest except for a simple, “Stay close, Your Highness.” Agnarr paused for a moment, acknowledging the lieutenant’s orders, before carrying on.

In the back of his mind, he knew he was being unfair to Lt. Matthias. He would have to apologise later, but for now, the sting of being dismissed so easily by his father still hurt. How many weeks had he spent preparing for this visit, poring over every volume he could find in the library, practicing conversations with himself, studying Arendelle’s foreign relations and previous diplomacy assignments? Receiving that invitation had been a beam of hope for him, that he would finally have the opportunity to prove himself as a worthy prince and future king. He had been ecstatic at the show of trust his father had placed in him, the potential he saw in Agnarr to step up and fulfil  _ adult _ responsibilities; only to find out he had been brought here on some mere sight-seeing stroll. With an  _ escort _ , no less. He couldn’t even be entrusted to  _ look at trees _ on his own.

A sharp cry of surprise brought him out of his brooding, followed by Lt. Matthias’ protests. “Prince Agnarr, I know you’re upset, but this isn’t funny,” came the lieutenant’s voice from a distance.

Then he heard a soft giggle from the branches of some trees to his left. He approached it cautiously, freezing in surprise when he saw a small pebble shoot out from the leaves. He watched as it soared through the air, weaving through the trees and circling around Lt. Matthias before striking him from behind, as if it had a mind of its own. Lt. Matthias cried out again and whirled around to face the other direction. Another stifled giggle sounded from the tree.

Agnarr marched up to the tree determinedly and peered through the branches. A couple of metres above him, there was a Northuldra girl laying flat against a branch, and a small pile of pebbles stacked in front of her. She threw another pebble directly at the tree in front of her. But before it could strike it, a gale of wind rushed through and corrected its path, carrying it again towards Lt. Matthias.

“What are you doing?” he asked, more curious than anything else. At his voice, the girl flinched in surprise, causing the branch to tremble and a few pebbles to fall at his feet.

“Prince Agnarr?” Lt. Matthias called, facing the direction of his voice.

The girl’s eyes widened in shock and she turned towards him in annoyance. “Be quiet,” she hissed.

“How are you doing that with the pebbles?” Agnarr continued.

“Did you not hear me the first time, or are you just ignoring me to spite me?” she whispered back.

“Why are you throwing rocks at my-” He was cut off when a pebble bounced off of his forehead and into his hand. It didn’t hurt, there was hardly any force applied. But the gesture shocked him nonetheless. Back in Arendelle, if there were any flying projectiles headed in his direction, there had always been some guard—usually Lt. Matthias—to intercept it. He stared at the pebble in his hand, then looked up at her in shock. “Did you just throw a pebble at me?”

She looked down at him smugly. “Serves you right, Ribbon Boy.”

He blinked slowly, taken aback. “ _ Ribbon Boy?!”  _ he spluttered. Almost subconsciously, he reached up for the blue bow—the ribbon— at his neck that fastened the front of his bunad together.

“Prince Agnarr, is that you?”

The girl smirked and picked up another pebble, winding her arm back. “Hey, wait!” Agnarr cried out, stepping forward. But she paid him no attention, throwing it as far as she could in Lt. Matthias’ direction. The wind picked it up yet again and maneuvered it through the forest until it hit the lieutenant squarely in the chest. 

Although it hardly looked like it hurt him, the effect was instantaneous. Lt. Matthias watched the rock bounce harmlessly off of his chest before his gaze snapped towards Agnarr, fury in his dark eyes. Agnarr suddenly realised how incriminating he looked, with a pebble in his hand, and many more littered about his feet. “That’s enough!” the lieutenant bellowed, thundering towards him.

Before Agnarr could react, the girl landed gracefully on the ground next to him and was dragging him along by his wrist. “Run!”

Still too shocked to protest, he ran after her, weaving through trees, leaping over fallen logs, cutting around corners so sharply, he would’ve fallen over from the momentum if she hadn’t grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him back on track.

“Why am I running?” he huffed out as he fell into step beside her. “I wasn’t the one throwing rocks at him.”

“You wanna stop and tell him that?” she replied, barely out of breath as she jerked a thumb back towards the lieutenant.

Agnarr risked a glance back and saw Lt. Matthias, a little distance away, and still very angry. He had always been an excellent Crown Guard, and had no trouble keeping up with the two of them, despite the girl’s agility in racing through the Forest. He was quickly closing the gap between them.

“Duck!”

Agnarr crouched down immediately, narrowly missing slamming his face against a low hanging branch as he turned his attention back to keeping the girl in sight. She glanced back at him, her eyes twinkling with laughter. “Having trouble keeping up, Ribbon Boy?”

“Don’t call me that!” he protested, but he was too busy chasing after her to feel too annoyed. He glanced back at Lt. Matthias, who was close behind them now. “He’s going to catch us,” he told the girl.

“Not while you’ve got me,” she replied confidently. “Follow me!”

She turned another sharp corner and plunged into a thicket of bushes and willow leaves, pushing her way through the snow-covered shrubbery and upsetting the ice around her. Agnarr did his best to keep up; it was getting more difficult to see her through all the white surrounding them. But he pushed through after her until the leaves thinned out, and he saw her squatting by the mouth of a small tunnel within the stone. She crawled in.

Agnarr hesitated for a moment as his mind caught up with everything. He was running away from a trusted Crown Guard who had been protecting him since birth, because a Northuldra girl, who he had caught attacking said Crown Guard, had told him to. Well, maybe ‘attacking’ was too strong a word; she had been throwing tiny rocks at him. But nevertheless, he had ended up in the exact situation that Father had warned him to stay out of; alone with a Northuldra. The people who had launched multiple attacks on the borders of Arendellian territory for generations before he was born, who raided their villages at night for their livestock and crops, who fought like wild beasts without restraint or caution when they came against the kingdom’s forces. And he had allowed himself to be left alone and unarmed with one of them.

The girl popped her head back out of the tunnel and eyed him expectantly. Agnarr swallowed discreetly and tried to assess his options. She didn’t seem hostile; she appeared to be more mischievous than anything else. But Father had warned him that they could attack at any given moment without reason.

“I think I’ll just… wait out here,” he said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You Arendellian stiffs really don’t know how to have fun. What, are you scared?”

Immediately, all fears about following after this strange Northuldra girl flew out of his head and he furrowed his brows indignantly. “I am not  _ scared _ of some dumb piece of rock,” he shot back, crouching onto his knees. “Scooch over.”

She smirked in satisfaction and crawled deeper into the tunnel to make room for him. It wasn’t more than a few paces long; the other side was visible even from the entrance. It revealed a little cove beneath the stone and forest floor, where the main river opened. Just as he had dragged himself past the exit, he heard Lt. Matthias’ footsteps thunder past, and his voice calling out for him. He pressed himself flat against the stone, not even daring to breathe, as he waited for the lieutenant’s footsteps to subside. Suddenly, he felt terrible for causing so much grief to Lt. Matthias. He made a note to throw in some of the royal chef’s chocolate chip cookies when he apologised later, and to be on his best behaviour for at least the next few weeks. Assuming he found his way out of here alive… 

All of a sudden, the girl next to him let out a hearty laugh that had her leaning back against the stone and clutching her sides. He watched her curiously for a minute, trying to process the situation. More than anything, he felt confused. Seconds ago, he had been ready to put his guard up again, half expecting her to lash out against him. Now, she was laughing?

“Spirits, I forgot how fun that could be when I’m with someone else!” she said in between laughs. Then her laughter subsided and she looked at him, her eyes shining with excitement. “We have to do that again!”

“Now?!” he burst out.

“Of course not, silly,” she said, flicking his cheek. “Some other time.”

He touched his cheek where she hit him and looked at her in shock. “What is with you and hitting my head? Ever heard of personal boundaries?”

She stared at him thoughtfully, blinking in surprise. “Oh. Sorry. I’m just so used to doing that with my brothers and sisters. I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable,” she said.

“I… I would appreciate that,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

She smiled at him, holding his gaze a little shyly. In spite of himself, Agnarr couldn’t help but return her smile. He took in the near invisible sprinkle of freckles across her nose, her wavy brown hair in disarray down her back, the sparkle of playfulness in her icy blue eyes, a sparkle not unlike the children who played in the main square back at home. And at that moment, he couldn’t imagine this girl, who couldn’t be older than he was, laying a finger on him.

A sharp burst of wind suddenly rushed through the tunnel, carrying with it leaves as it circled around her arms and surged through her hair. She laughed as the wind lifted her to her feet, before racing around him and pushing him to stand as well. Agnarr watched in amazement as it moved around them.

“Is it just me, or is the wind…  _ playing _ with us?” he asked. The girl’s laughter subsided and she turned towards him, her eyes twinkling knowingly. Then, realisation dawned on him. “That’s how you were doing that thing with the pebbles earlier,” he said. “This forest, it really is magical, isn’t it?”

She considered his words for a moment. “Sure,” she said. “The Enchanted Forest is home to our people, but also to the four Elemental Spirits. The Wind Spirit here is one of my best friends.” As if it had its own set of ears, the wind rushed around her in appreciation. She giggled, like the air was tickling her. “You don’t have that back in Arendelle?” she asked.

“No, we don’t,” Agnarr replied, still taking in the fact that  _ magic _ was real. His father had always insisted that magic was a children’s fantasy, that there was no such thing. But here before him was living proof. It was incredible.

He remembered how she mentioned Arendelle. “And how do you know where I’m from, by the way?”

She raised an eyebrow almost sarcastically, and gestured to the Arendellian crest on his outer jacket. He suddenly felt his face heat up and he looked at his shoes determinedly. She laughed at his embarrassment—he noticed she laughed a lot—and took a step towards the water. “I’ve been hearing about the Arendellian delegation set to arrive for weeks now from my grand-uncle. He and the rest of our elders have been talking about it a lot—how to appease you village-folk.” She eyed him curiously. “I wasn’t expecting a kid to be on the delegation though.”

“I’m not a kid!” Agnarr protested.

“Sure you are,” she replied easily. “How old are you?”

He frowned. “Fourteen,” he said slowly.

“Then you’re still a kid,” she said, grinning back at him. Despite having firmly decided that he hated his youth and all the limitations that came with it, the pride in her eyes made him question whether being a kid was really as bad as he had convinced himself to be.

He stepped forward and stood next to her along the water’s edge. For a moment, he observed her wordlessly, the wonder in her features as she stared out over the cove. “Who are you?” he finally asked.

She turned to face him. “My people call me Iduna. And you are?”

“Prince Agnarr,” he answered proudly.

Iduna raised an eyebrow at him. “ _ Prince _ Agnarr?” she echoed.

“Yes. Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, of course not,” she replied, but there was a hint of irony in her tone.

“Really?” he probed anxiously. “Because it sounds like there is something wrong.”

“No, everything’s fine,” she asserted. There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, and then she spoke again. “You know, my people don’t really have titles. Except for the chief. And even then, we don’t really address Dorste as such except on special occasions. Like today, I guess.”

“Oh yes, I met Chief Dorste this morning. He’s quite the jokester, it would appear,” he said.

Iduna looked at him incredulously, blinking slowly. He held her gaze amicably, hoping that the strangely uncomfortable prickling on the back of his neck would disappear soon. He didn’t understand why she seemed so shocked. It was enough to make him slightly nervous, but he was sure he hadn’t done anything noteworthy of offense. 

Suddenly, a woman’s voice calling for Iduna echoed from somewhere above the slope of the forest surrounding the cove. Iduna closed her eyes and groaned before looking at him apologetically. “That’s my grandmama. I have to go now, but I hope we’ll meet again!” she said, rushing off to the small tunnel they entered in.

“It was nice to meet you, Iduna,” he called after her.

“You too!” she replied, pausing at the mouth of the tunnel. Then, after a moment, she smirked. “Prince Ribbon Boy.”

Before he could even object (he got the feeling those nicknames were going to become a regular occurrence), she had disappeared into the tunnel.

***

Iduna emerged from the shrubbery as quietly as she could, pressing herself flat against a willow trunk when she saw the Arendellian guard pass around the foliage, still calling out for Prince Agnarr. When he had disappeared around another set of trees, she darted away as quietly as she could back towards the clearing where they had settled for the season. If she could make it back to the lavvu she shared with her sisters before her grandmama found her, she could chalk her absence up to having slept in. Of course, she would still get an earful. But it wouldn’t be as bad as the scolding she would get if she had been found playing in the forest.

The group of lavvus soon appeared over the hill. She was going to make it! She was going to-

“Iduna!”

She froze in her place. She had been so close. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, steeling her nerve, and turned around her. “Hi,  _ Grandmama _ ,” she greeted timidly.

Her grandmama stood a few paces away at the edge of the treeline, staring down at her with stony eyes. She stepped forward, and Iduna resisted the urge to step back. “You missed your lesson with your cousins again,” she said, iron in her voice.

Iduna squared her shoulders and tried to look braver than she felt. “I know, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that, the Wind Spirit was calling me to play within the southern part of the forest-”

“ _ Play? _ ” her grandmama interjected. “You made  _ everyone _ wait, worried your parents  _ sick _ all morning, because you wanted to  _ play? _ ” Iduna flinched back at her tone and stared at her feet determinedly. “Iduna, look at me when I’m speaking to you.” She swallowed again and looked up hesitantly. Her grandmama regarded her wordlessly for a moment, her wizened features steely and unyielding. “How old are you, girl?”

“Th-Thirteen,” she said quietly.

“And have you, or have you not come of age?”

“I have,  _ Grandmama _ .”

Another moment of silence passed. Iduna felt antsy all over, but forced herself to stand tall and still despite the itch to move. Then, her grandmama broke eye contact and stepped ahead. “The ways of children are below you,” she said as she watched the children run around the lavvus, her voice more pensive now. “You are a Lytteren adult of the Northuldra now, Iduna. Our clan may have the greatest burden of all in protecting the tribe. The Northuldra depends on all of us to step up and take responsibility. And that includes you.”

Her grandmama picked up a fallen stick and began to draw in the snow. Iduna let out a quiet sigh of relief; at least her anger had subsided, the worst part was over. 

But as she began to recognise the runes being traced out onto the snow, she fought off the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe she was wrong, about the worst part being over. Iduna kept her features neutral as she braced herself for the lecture that she had practically memorised to death.

“Our clan descends from Lytteren, Akanidi’s first apprentice. We are charged with maintaining the balance between the Spirits and our people. We hear the Spirits’ voices, what our other tribesmen and women do not. We interpret the will of the Spirits to our elders, and we intercede on our tribe’s behalf.” When she had finished talking, she had drawn out the four runes representing the four Elemental Spirits. Then she turned back towards Iduna, her eyes more solemn than anything else. “And to do that requires discipline of one’s mind,” she said, pointing to Iduna’s forehead, “One’s will,” she continued, pointing to her chest, “And one’s spirit,” she finished, pointing to her core. “Discipline which is learned and developed by attending your training. Do you understand?”

Iduna blew a small tuft of hair out of her face when the older woman wasn’t looking. “Yes,  _ Grandmama _ .”

At that, her grandmama smiled. She took a step back to stand next to Iduna and gathered her wild hair behind her shoulders, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear. “I know the first few lessons will be difficult. It will take time to grow into your own person. But I see great things in your path, Iduna. I am certain that the Spirits will bless you if you are true to your calling.”

With one final warning to make sure she was present for the next lesson, Iduna was free to return to her lavvu. She cleaned herself up quickly and wandered back into the forest for her chores for the day. On some level, she truly did understand her grandmama’s words. She knew that it was important for her to learn her duties and protect the tribe. But that didn’t stop her from resenting how  _ soon _ it all had to happen. She missed the days where she could frolic about the autumn leaves with the other children of the tribe whenever she wanted, or see who could hold their breath the longest under the river when it had thawed for the spring. She and her friends used to marvel about being grown ups; being able to join the herders in rearing the reindeer, or travel to far off places like Arendelle and see new sights. But so far, there had been nothing exciting about adulthood. Ever since she came of age, all anyone worried about was their  _ duty _ . It was as if all her friends growing up had forgotten how to enjoy themselves. If she had known that growing up meant saying goodbye to all  _ fun _ and turning into a stiff forever, she wouldn’t have been half excited for her coming of age.

As she reached the river to draw water for the week, she noticed her grand-uncle Ivaar and the rest of the elders, as well as some men in Arendellian uniforms, standing around the foot of the two cliff-faces where the river ran through. She saw Prince Agnarr—she snorted a laugh; Arendellians and their titles. She couldn’t believe how  _ obtuse _ he was to her blatantly obvious jibe earlier. He was standing stiffly next to a tall man who was gesturing to the river and the top of the cliffs. She watched them curiously for a moment, trying to picture the conversation they were having. When Uncle Ivaar returned that evening, she would ask. She picked up the bucket and headed back towards the campsite, and began to plot how she could evade as much of tomorrow’s lesson as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i wanted to add this little end note as well for fun HAHA but some of you might recognise the middle section when agnarr and iduna first met as part of an extract i posted on tumblr a few months (what feels like a lifetime) ago. i spent three months since watching the movie working on this fic, and i'm super proud of it because this is literally the first multi-chaptered project i've finished (at least a first draft of), like, ever!! however, the perfectionist in me wanted to smoothen out all the bumps with the characterisation and straighten out the plot before posting it so i could give you guys something amazing. however, due to (mainly global pandemic related) stuff in my personal life, i kinda lost my motivation to fine-tune this story, and i couldn't look at it without feeling guilty about not being able to edit it. it's still not the final product that i envisioned, but i recently realised that i don't wanna keep feeling bad about this project that i was once so incredibly proud of and excited about. i still fully intend to come back to this and make those edits that i wanted, but in my own time when i'm ready :))
> 
> since this whole story is already written, i'll try to do weekly updates (still gotta do minor edits here and there). feel free to let me know what you guys thought, and consider checking out my tumblr!!


	2. the spirit of change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You must not tell the others about your aurora. It is too dangerous for them to know whilst you are still so young. It must become your most closely guarded secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST of all i wanna say a big thank you to everyone who's been reading/commenting/leaving kudos on the first chapter!! i wrote this story because i loved the world of frozen and i was excited to explore it myself, but seeing that you guys are just as excited as i am?? ahhh it genuinely fills me up, thank you guys so much <33

“Notice the earth below you. It is strong and solid. It keeps you supported in the place where you sit. Similarly, the earth supports all life in this forest, from the smallest creature that lies asleep within, to the highest branch of the tallest tree. It exerts a pull on us all and keeps us grounded. Feel how the energy of the earth travels from the crown of your head to the base of your spine. How it collects on your bottom, keeping you tethered in place. Iduna, straighten up your back.”

Iduna frowned and did as she was told. Jovsset made a noise of satisfaction and continued walking amongst his group of pupils, all of Iduna’s cousins and two of her brothers that had recently come of age. She tried to focus on listening to her cousin, but she was growing antsier by the minute. There was an itch on her nose that she desperately needed to scratch, and her eyelids kept twitching uncomfortably.

“The energy in your body will not flow correctly if you have poor posture, and you will not be able to form a connection to the Earth Spirit,” Jovsset continued. “Now think about all that I have just said.”

He fell silent after that. In spite of his instructions, Iduna’s focus immediately dissipated and her thoughts began to wander. In an effort to distract from the near agonising _discomfort_ of being unable to move, she thought about what she would do after this lesson. She had already done all her chores for the morning, unlike her brothers, so she would be free to do as she pleased until her mama summoned her again. Perhaps she could visit the dam construction site. The Arendellian builders had been working on it for just over a month now, having put in the braces along the cliffs and the foundations across the river bed. Maybe she would also figure out what a dam actually was. 

“Alright, that’s enough meditation for today,” she finally heard Jovsset say. In an instant, she had jumped to her feet and was stretching out her limbs, blissfully scratching away the itch on her nose. Her brothers and other cousins seemed to feel the same way. They all came to life at Jovsset’s permission, sighing in relief and shaking out various limbs.

“Come on, cousins, meditation isn’t that bad,” Jovsset said, scoffing at their melodramatics. He walked over to the river’s edge and gestured for them to follow. “Last thing for today. The Water Spirit is being kind to us today, and has allowed us this morning to teach you.” As if on cue, the water near his feet receded, forming a little patch of dry land for him to stand on. He stepped out onto the river bank and walked deeper into its midst, the patch of dry land following him where he went.

“The Water Spirit is perhaps the most tempestuous of the spirits. It is as unpredictable as the shifting tides, changing its nature at a whim. One moment, it can be as calm as a woodland lake, the next, as wild as the raging oceans of the Dark Sea. It demands awe and respect, and it does not take too kindly to attempts at being controlled. I would know,” he said with a chuckle, more towards the other elders of the Lytteren clan present than for the students. “But it is not beyond reason, and favours those that can adapt with its changing moods. You must be able to humble yourself before it, but you must also assert yourself, otherwise you will be washed away.”

Suddenly, the water at his feet rushed out and began to rise around him, forming a dish with him at the centre. He glanced at the water around him for a moment, his features hardening in concentration, and crouched down, anchoring himself to the river bed with a hand outstretched before him. Just as he did so, the water that had been collecting around him crashed down on top of him with a loud roar. Iduna’s heart stuttered in her chest and the other students around her gasped, but the elders only watched on unfazed.

A moment later, his head broke the surface. However, before she could even sigh in relief, the river began to circle in a whirlpool, dragging him along towards the centre. Jovsset righted himself and began to swim in the direction of the current, but outwards towards the top. After a few painstaking moments, he finally reached the top and began swimming towards the river’s edge with purpose. Without the current of the whirlpool dragging him down, he was able to move relatively unimpeded.

Just before his fingers could reach the edge of the bank, the water under him solidified and formed a column, rising high above the water level. Another round of gasps sounded from the young onlookers as the momentum pushed him over the edge. At the last moment he found purchase, gripping onto the column’s edge with one hand and hauling himself onto the top. He barely had time to hold on for dear life when the column began dissolving back into liquid from the base up, and more columns formed out of the river. He leapt off his spot just before it collapsed completely, scrambling onto another water column, jumping back and forth as columns appeared before finally hitting dry ground, propelling himself as far away from the river bank as possible seconds before a wave of water could drag him back.

All eyes turned to Jovsset’s figure in the snow, watching with bated breath as he lay unmoving. Behind them all, the river receded back into place and stilled itself.

Then, he scrambled to his feet, shivering and soaking wet, and cracked a proud smile. Immediately, Iduna found herself cheering alongside her cousins and brothers as her grandmama rushed to envelope Jovsset with a blanket.

“That was epic!” she heard Eljes, one of her brothers, exclaim.

“Epic? That was _terrifying_ and _dangerous_ ,” Nanni, one of her cousins, said incredulously.

Jovsset chuckled as the elder women fussed around him. “Don’t worry, the Water Spirit and I are good friends. Although what you have all just seen looks dangerous—and I assure you, it most certainly was—the Water Spirit is not malevolent. Although it showed a little more… restraint… than usual today,” he said, his eyes shifting towards the water uneasily. “It will be much kinder to first-timers such as yourselves.”

“What do you mean by that?” Iduna asked.

Jovsset smiled at her. “Thank you for volunteering yourself, Iduna. Now everyone, watch closely. Remember, the Water Spirit doesn’t take too kindly to being subjugated or weakness. You must find the right balance of respect-”

“Wait, Jovsset, what’s going on?” Iduna asked again, feeling panicked all of a sudden.

He gestured towards the river. “It’s your turn, _little cousin_. You will brave the water to learn its wisdom.”

There was a beat of silence as his words processed in her mind. Then, “Are you crazy?!” she spluttered. “You want _me_ to put myself in _that_? What if I drown?!”

“The Water Spirit is not malevolent. Just remember to be adaptable,” Jovsset replied calmly, ignoring her question. Iduna remained frozen for a moment, a billion thoughts racing through her head. Running away at that very instant was out of the question, although it was the most appealing choice. Maybe she could feign sickness and convince the elders to let someone else have a go. But then she’d be stuck in the healing lavvu for hours. Could she try to trick one of her cousins to volunteer-

“Iduna.”

Her grandmama was standing with a few of the other elders a few paces away, watching her. She nodded towards the river.

Iduna sighed in resignation and faced the water. She approached it slowly, pausing at the edge. The river lapped ominously at her feet, and she swallowed hard. She tried to think back to her first experience with the spirits, meeting the Wind Spirit for the first time. She had been able to get a grip on it quickly enough, faster than even her older cousins and sister who had come of age at the time. And once she had gained its favour, she no longer had any problems calling it to do as she pleased. She had never felt unsafe or uneasy with the Wind Spirit. Maybe the Water Spirit would be the same.

The water rose to meet her, forming a solid platform for her to stand on. Iduna took a breath and steeled her nerves before stepping on.

The platform widened once she had gotten on, expanding outwards to support her weight. Then it started to roll unsteadily with the waves, and Iduna quickly adjusted her stance to better support its shifting balance. As soon as she did so, she was pushed across the river at a slightly faster pace. She responded by crouching down lower and shifting her footing again. _Okay, this isn’t so bad_.

But she had spoken (thought?) too soon. Suddenly, the platform shot up into a column, bringing her with it. In a panic, she dropped down to her knees and clutched the edges for dear life. “No, no, no! Stop it!”

“Don’t try to fight it!” she heard Jovsset call from an increasingly further distance below. But she barely heeded his words, pressing herself flatter against the water and holding on tighter as she rocketed upwards, far higher than Jovsset had been.

As abruptly as it had started, the water stopped. Iduna was glad she was holding on tight; the sudden force would’ve been enough to propel her high into the air. She remained in that position for a moment, before peering over the edge hesitantly.

She had never been afraid of heights before. The Wind Spirit would often lift her high above the trees when they played together, and whatever fear of heights she might’ve previously held was quickly eliminated. But looking down at the sheer _distance_ between herself and her clan below made her stomach lurch alarmingly and the blood drained from her head. Every nerve in her body was paralysed with fear, and she found herself unable to even look away as she gaped at the earth below.

“Jump!” Jovsset shouted, gesturing towards the whirlpool below her, ready to catch her.

Iduna could barely remember how to breathe. She clambered back onto the platform, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed her cheek against the water. Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribcage, she was sure she could feel it rocking the water platform.

After a moment, she realised it wasn’t her heartbeat. The column was shaking— _trembling_. Almost as if it was straining to hold her up. The column abruptly lurched and she screamed, hugging the water even tighter than before. There was a loud, collective gasp from her clan; one that made her blood run cold. She dared to peek over the edge again and immediately wished she didn’t; large sections of water were quickly melting off the column before it clamoured to reform, as if the water was fighting against itself to stay upright. She looked towards Jovsset and the elders, their expressions no longer unfazed, but filled with wide-eyed panic.

“Iduna, jump off now!” Jovsset commanded, alarm in his voice.

“I can’t!” she cried back, squeezing her eyes back shut.

The pillar jerked again with a loud crash, and she screamed again. _Please stay up, please stay up, please stay up…_

“Get out of there!”

At last, the water below her dissolved into liquid, and Iduna was falling through the air. Instinctively, she cupped her hand around her mouth and called for the Wind Spirit.

_“No, Iduna,” her grandmama said, her eyes gentle, yet firm. “You must not tell the others about your aurora. It is too dangerous for them to know whilst you are still so young. It must become your most closely guarded secret.”_

She quickly covered her mouth to stifle the rest of the tune. Deciding she would much rather face the impact of the water than expose herself so publicly, she gathered herself into a ball and adjusted her position so that her feet would be the first to plunge into the river. She closed her eyes and tucked her head as far into her chest as possible, hoping no one else heard the single ethereal note that had escaped her lips.

Without warning, the air around her shifted ever so slightly. She opened her eyes and glimpsed the river only inches away from her feet, before she was being carried away from the water and back towards the rest of the class. The wind lowered her gently onto the snow before swirling around her, seemingly checking if she was okay. Iduna couldn’t help but giggle as it blew her hair into her face. “Thank you,” she told it, quiet enough so that no one else could hear. Once it was sure she was unharmed, it breezed away back towards the forest.

For a moment, all eyes were on her. And then, the class erupted into cheering. She blinked in surprise as her cousins and brothers crowded around her, before she managed a small smile.

“That’s enough.”

The cheering died down immediately. A few paces away stood Jovsset, the blankets and coats the elder women had swaddled him with earlier discarded carelessly on the snow behind him. His eyes were burning with thinly veiled fury. And he was looking right at her.

“Dismissed,” he said through gritted teeth. For a second, nobody moved, too shocked by his sudden change in mood. Jovsset was the oldest of the cousins, practically as old as their parents, and had always been soft-spoken and collected at all times. Nobody had seen him really lose it before.

He whirled around on the rest of the class when nobody moved. Eljes cowered into Nanni’s side. “ _Dismissed,_ ” he snapped. Immediately, everyone scrambled away. Iduna eyed the forest and tried to disappear with the flurry of movement. 

“Not you, Iduna.”

She swallowed hard and turned towards him again, fighting the urge to shrink away when she eventually dragged her gaze to meet his. His brown eyes, usually so guarded and still, glared down at her like an inferno. It was terrifying to see someone so reserved seething as fiercely as he was.

“ _What in Akanidi’s name were you thinking_ ?!” he exploded at last, once the last of the cousins had disappeared. “We have tolerated your many absences, your tardiness, your distractedness throughout these lessons, your _outright disrespect_ for your elders and your clan. But _how dare_ you _disrespect_ the _Spirits_ ?! _How dare_ you treat the Water Spirit with such _crass insensitivity_ ?! Who are you, to be so _deaf_ to the water’s needs...”

As Iduna listened to him go on, she felt—much to her (retrospective) surprise—angry. He was piling slander at her feet, and she was supposed to take it? Her irritation welled up inside her with every accusation he pointed at her until… 

“Do you think you’re _entitled_ to the water bending at whatever whim suits you?!”

“I’m ‘entitled’ to not drowning!” she burst out, squaring her shoulders. “Forgive me for actually _valuing my life!”_

“And how about the Water Spirit’s?” he fired back, barely batting an eye at her outburst. “The water was _trembling_ under the weight of supporting you, and yet you continued to push it past its limits. You put your own _comfort_ above-”

“ _My own comfort?!”_ she spluttered. “I was terrified! You think I was up there lounging around like some, some _princess_? I was scared out of my mind! I genuinely thought I was going to die!”

“But you weren’t _just_ scared!” Jovsset shot back. “You were running away. You were running away because you didn’t want to face something you _knew_ you couldn’t control. You refused to jump from that pillar because you couldn’t stand the thought of placing your trust in the Water Spirit before you had bested it. That’s all the Spirits have ever been to you; a type of power to wield.”

“That’s not true,” Iduna fumed. “I use the Wind Spirit-”

“The Wind Spirit is not something to _use_ ,” he said fiercely. Then his gaze intensified, like blue fire. “If you can’t understand that, then you have already failed your tribe.”

His words pierced deep within her, immediately stifling her frustration. He shot her one last look, the fire in his eyes having died down to embers, before striding away, picking up the blankets and furs he had left on the snow and throwing them over his shoulders. Iduna looked helplessly to the group of elders who were watching the whole exchange—towards her grandmama—and immediately wished she hadn’t. 

Her grandmama regarded her flintily, the disappointment in her eyes sharp enough to cut. Then, she turned her back on her and walked away, the rest of the elders following suit. Soon enough, Iduna was left out on the riverside, all alone.

***

Jovsset’s words haunted her for the rest of the day. Her cousins who had been present during the lesson had the good sense not to push her when they saw her expression once she had returned. Even her brothers and sisters had stayed relatively clear of her. She had been grateful for it at first, but that feeling quickly faded. The air of apprehension that surrounded her wherever she went made her feel all the more isolated, all the more like the criminal prior to her banishment; the punishment of being a _failure_ to her tribe. She eventually wound up repeating her chores and venturing out into the forest, no longer able to withstand the lingering stares and hushed conversations behind her back.

What bothered her most was his comment about the Wind Spirit. She didn’t want to believe it at first; she had always considered the Wind Spirit to be a friend and companion. It had been one of her first playmates as a child, when the other children had deemed her to be too young for their games. It had the same playful temperament as she did, always eager to go along with her escapades. But that was just it; the Wind Spirit followed _her_ in her scheming, responded to _her_ whims. The more thought she gave it, the more she realised how right Jovsset was. She had never felt uncomfortable with the Wind Spirit because she was always the one leading the way. Even if it acted out against what she wanted, she knew that at the end of the day, she had the ability to calm it again—to _control_ it.

The more she considered it, the worse she felt. It was against everything the Northuldra stood for, against everything she had been taught from birth. And despite wanting nothing more than to ride out her misery with company, she was afraid to even call for the Wind Spirit to cheer her up.

Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the foliage behind her. Iduna perked up at the sound but remained where she was. It wasn’t unusual for the Wind Spirit to seek her out, but after everything, she didn’t trust herself to treat it like the mighty Elemental Spirit that it truly was. She decided to stay in her place until it made its will clear.

She heard rustling again after a moment, this time a little quieter, more purposefully discreet, and frowned. She hadn’t so much as felt a light breeze since the last noise, why was the Wind Spirit holding back? She slid off the boulder and walked around it to face the wind.

Instead, she was met with the sight of some wooden contraption, loaded with an arrow that pointed right at her. Her blood ran cold and she screamed, leaping behind the boulder for cover.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you!” came a familiar voice.

Prince Agnarr quickly came rushing before her, his expression stricken with anxiety, holding the bow-arrow contraption beside him. She shrank away at the sight of it.

“No, it’s okay, I-I wasn’t using this for-” He sighed sharply. “Alright, I’m putting it down-” The arrow glinting in the midst of the contraption suddenly sprung free as he placed it on the ground. Iduna shrieked and covered her head as it whizzed through the air and embedded itself deep within the trunk of a nearby tree.

“What are you doing with that, that… _thing_?!” she screeched.

“M-My father gave it, he gave it to me so I-I could, so I could protect myself,” he mumbled.

Iduna looked at him wildly. “From _what_?! All of the beasts of the forest are asleep during winter, there’s practically nothing awake out here except for my tribe!” His eyes flashed nervously at the mention of her tribe and suddenly, realisation dawned on her. Her expression hardened and she pushed herself onto her feet. “We’re the beasts,” she said icily. She regarded him for a few moments, her gaze unrelenting, before roughly pushing past him without another word.

“Wait, Iduna, I’m sorry-”

“Is that what you think of us?” she snarled, whirling around on him and taking pleasure in how he flinched away. “That we’re some _race of savages_ to hunt down for sport?”

“No!” he pleaded.

“Then _what_?”

“Just that—I mean, according to all my reading about the Northuldra—your people are quite fearsome warriors who fight bitterly on the battlefield—which is a good thing! I mean, not because I enjoy battles or bloodshed, a good ruler should always try to avoid war when he can— _as much as_ _he can_ — but _what I mean to say_ is that your people can be scary sometimes! Because of how well you fight! And when faced against that—a-according to my father—it is best to be prepared for whatever… _eventuality_ … He wouldn’t let me leave the delegation without a crossbow…”

Iduna watched him incredulously. She couldn’t believe she had to listen to someone spout such garbage with her own two ears. “Do you really believe that?” she interjected sharply.

He looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. “I…” He hesitated, bringing his fingers to his temple momentarily in what seemed like a subconscious act. Then, the distress on his features dissolved and he sighed in defeat. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

At the sheer honesty of his words, the rising hurricane of anger within her stilled. Standing before her looking so defeated, he looked nothing like the boy who had run after her all those weeks ago, determined to keep up, or the oblivious prince who insisted upon his royal title. With his shoulders hunched over and his eyes downcast, he reminded her more of a child who had just realised the gravity of his actions, and was bracing himself for the consequences. Who was beating himself up over his mistakes, and biting back the sting of being a failure.

An experience she had been all too familiar with over the past few weeks.

She took a tentative step towards him.

“Prince Agnarr! What did I say about wandering too far-” The guard that had been chasing them the first time they met emerged from the foliage, his gaze frantically searching his surroundings before landing on the two of them. His expression turned hard when he saw her and he pulled out his sword. “Step away from the Prince. _Now_.”

She turned her stormy gaze towards him and squared her shoulders. She was clearly outmatched, but that didn’t matter to her. The sting of Jovsset’s earlier words was still fresh in her mind. She refused to run away again.

“Alright, everybody! Let’s all just settle down,” Prince Agnarr said, moving in front of her. He looked at the guard pointedly. “Lt. Matthias, a word?”

She watched the two of them walk out of her earshot and murmur heatedly to each other, glancing back at her every once in a while. Iduna blew a tuft of hair out of her face and busied herself with inspecting the contraption—Prince Agnarr had called it a crossbow—on the snow. The front part of it resembled a small bow for which it was partly named after, but it was lined with a thick wooden plank in the place where the arrow would usually go. The wood was wound up with more strings and pieces of metal that glinted ominously in the sun. It looked much more advanced than any of the weapons the warriors had back at camp. Given the smaller size of the bow, she would have assumed that it would not be able to shoot arrows as effectively as the ones her father and older brothers used. But she had seen how quickly it had released the arrow that had been notched in the centre, and how deeply it was able to pierce the thick trunk of the tree behind the place where Prince Agnarr and his guard stood. She wondered morbidly what havoc a weapon so dangerous could wreak on her tribe, and what would push the Arendellians to use it against them.

“You know, I never really liked these things anyway,” she heard Prince Agnarr from behind her. He picked it up gingerly, determinedly pointing it away from her.

“ _That_ needs to go,” she said firmly.

“Agreed.” He walked over and handed it off to the Arendellian guard, eager to get it away from him. When he returned, his green eyes were penitent. “Look, I’m terribly sorry again about earlier. I understand why you were offended, and you had every right to be,” he said. He looked back towards the guard, who was watching them both closely, and walked over to lean against the boulder Iduna had been sitting on before, out of earshot but still within sight. His brows were knitted together in distress. “Prior to coming out here, I spent weeks in the library reading as much as I could about the Northuldra. It wasn’t all bad; there was information about some of your past leaders, and your native language, and your reindeer herding. But practically every historical account painted your people out to be this aggressive tribal group who fight like wild beasts, attacking Arendelle on any given whim without reason. Even my father-” His mouth slammed shut and he studied the ground with interest. Then he looked back at her, ashamed. “We were taught to fear you.”

Iduna pushed herself up to sit on top of the boulder, considering his words carefully. She remembered the stories her mama would tell her and her siblings as a child, of the first generation of people the Sun had created after giving birth to the four Elemental Spirits, and the bitter wars the humans waged upon the Spirits before Akanidi.

_“In our terror of the unknown, we sought to conquer that which we did not understand, to crush the Spirits beneath our heel, before we could be conquered ourselves,” her mama said softly, stroking a finger down her nose. “It was fear of the unknown that almost destroyed us.”_

“Your people are afraid of us because our ways are foreign to you,” Iduna said after a moment. Prince Agnarr looked up at her curiously and she turned her gaze towards him. “My mama says that it’s always easier to fear what you don’t know. And fear pushes people to do terrible things; to abandon their place, to forget all other loyalties except to themselves, to seek control over what is unknown. Sometimes, all those things.” 

She thought about how she’d treated the Water Spirit earlier—the Wind Spirit for most of her life—and a fresh wave of guilt gusted through her. She looked down at her hands and closed her eyes for a moment, before inhaling deeply and reining her emotions back in. There was no taking back the mistakes she had made. She could only carry on with those faults as lessons, and try to make something better out of it.

“Not all things that are foreign are malevolent,” she said after a while, looking back at the prince. “Conquering over what you don’t understand isn’t always the solution. The Enchanted Forest is home to the Northuldra, but it is also home to the trees that form our lavvus and tools, the plants and animals that feed us and keep us warm, and the Spirits that watch over us. We all live together, taking only as much as we need from the Forest. Cooperation and mutual respect has always been the way of my people.”

Prince Agnarr observed her wordlessly. Despite his silence, she noticed the way he hung onto every word and listened to her with his entire body. She wondered what was going on in his head. “I think I believe that too,” he mused. Then he gave her a small smile. “You didn’t tell me you were so well-spoken.”

Iduna snorted a laugh. “Are you surprised, Prince Ribbon Boy?”

He frowned immediately, which made her laugh harder. “I want you to know that I refused to wear that ribbon specifically for the off chance that we’d meet again,” he said. Then, after a moment, he grumbled, “It was one of my favourite ribbons too.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes before sliding off the boulder and landing next to him.

All of a sudden, the air around her shifted ever so slightly, before a gust of wind rushed through her with such force, she had to step back to maintain her balance. The Wind Spirit wheeled around her excitedly, flying between her limbs and below her arms. It pushed her away from the boulder and shot up high above the trees before rushing down to wait for her. Instinctively, Iduna giggled at its antics, almost stepping forward to lead the way, when she caught herself, her smile faltering. The Wind Spirit immediately sensed her hesitation and nudged her arm lightly.

“Everything’s okay,” she told it, holding out her hand. It circled her arm slowly in what felt like a comforting gesture. “No, really. I just thought that today, you could decide what we’d do.”

The Wind Spirit stilled at her suggestion, and she could almost sense its surprise. It swayed back and forth thoughtfully for a few moments before perking up and hurtling towards Prince Agnarr, who had been watching the whole exchange with curiosity. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when the Wind Spirit circled him and began pushing him to where Iduna was standing. The Arendellian guard stepped forward, his hand flying to the sword at his waist when the wind began pushing at Prince Agnarr, but the latter made a gesture for him to stand down.

“It’s okay, Lt. Matthias,” he called. “It’s the Wind Spirit! As long as Iduna’s here, it won’t hurt me.”

For some reason, Iduna felt herself flush at the certainty in his voice, the confidence in the excited grin he flashed her way. But before she could think much of it, he was standing beside her, and the wind was weaving between them with enthusiasm. She giggled again as it raced up her back and blew her hair over her face. “It wants you to play with us,” she informed the prince.

He seemed genuinely surprised at that. His gaze raced around the two of them, trying to pin down the Wind Spirit, but he only made himself cross-eyed in the process. It made Iduna laugh harder as he blinked away the disorientation. He looked at her, almost bashfully when she laughed, before turning his attention back towards the wind. “I would be most honoured to play, I suppose, with you, er…”

“ _Gale_ is fine,” Iduna told him with a smile. Then she turned towards the wind. “And this is His Royal Stiffness, all the way from Arendelle.”

Prince Agnarr gave her a blank look. “ _His Royal Stiffness_? Really?”

She smirked at him. “Well, you didn’t seem to like _Prince Ribbon Boy_ very much.”

He sighed tiredly. “It had to be _you_ I found in the forest, didn’t it?” he muttered, more to himself.

“Well, Gale? What would you have us do today?”

It stopped weaving between them and lingered before Iduna for a moment, shifting inquisitively in its place. Then suddenly, it flew back away from them and began soaring gently through the clearing, disturbing the leaves in its wake and breezing past the Arendellian guard—Lt. Matthias, as Prince Agnarr had called him.

“What does that mean?” the prince asked her.

She looked over at him with a smile, her limbs itching with anticipation and excitement. Then she gestured for him to follow and headed off after the wind.

***

The thrill of the afternoon was still drumming through Agnarr’s veins when Lt. Matthias had finally pulled him away from the Wind Spirit and convinced him to return to the delegation. His back was still a little sore from when he and Iduna had tumbled out of the trees and landed onto a soft pile of snow—the result of Iduna’s _‘crazy trust exercise’_ that she had easily roped him into—but despite Lt. Matthias’ chagrin at his carelessness, he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. He had been _flying_.

Although the Wind Spirit had long since left them, he still felt giddy all over from the sensation of being completely weightless, and being so high from the ground unsupported as he rode the wind’s currents. His execution at first had been more than a little clumsy, and it had been really hard to focus when Lt. Matthias was right below him, talking his ear off about safety precautions. But he got the hang of it quickly enough. He found himself, not for the first time, awestruck again at the wonders of the Enchanted Forest as he soared above the clearing, if not a little jealous that this was the reality that Iduna got to live in every day. And all the while, the girl in question had been right beside him, her blue eyes gleaming with pure elation as she guided him towards the tree that had become their landing spot, her mischievous smirk as she glanced back at him and goaded him with her nicknames, her outstretched arms ready to grab his as she sailed through the air. Well, maybe the last one didn’t end up going as well as they had planned (hence why Lt. Matthias had found them in a tangle of limbs in the snow).

Despite what he told her, he would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t hoping to see Iduna again on this second visit to the Enchanted Forest. He had been thinking about the last time they were together ever since he returned to Arendelle; her boldness in addressing him and telling him what to do, how easily she had dragged him into her mischief, the wonder and joy with which she regarded everything around her. Although he had been focused on keeping up with her at the time, that morning running after her through the forest was easily the most exhilarating thing he’d done in a long time, and one of the happiest he’d been since his mother passed away. She had insisted that he was still a child, and for the first time in forever, he didn’t hate it.

And then he had to go off and offend her by pointing a crossbow at her.

Father would’ve praised him for doing the right thing, being on the lookout and at the ready from the moment he felt threatened, for using his head. But everything about that sequence, from hearing the incoherent grumbling from the midst of the bushes, to Lt. Matthias’ solemn nod at his crossbow, felt wrong. He knew that when it came down to it, he never would’ve been able to fire the first shot, be it towards some Northuldrian warrior or another sort of beast-

 _“We’re the beasts,”_ _she said in realisation, shooting him an icy look._

Agnarr cringed back at the memory. There were plenty of hardliners in Arendelle who had no problem accepting that. And even the godawful explanation he had strung together in an attempt to assuage the situation was a watered down version of what most of the books had written about the Northuldra. Father had always championed being the most open-minded of Arendelle’s monarchs; the first king to reach out to their nomadic neighbours who had tormented their northernmost villages for generations and attempt friendly relations. But the way that he spoke about them and described his expeditions in his addresses back in the kingdom still carried an air of prejudice and caution.

“Lt. Matthias.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

Agnarr hesitated for a moment, trying to form the words properly. “The Arendellian delegation is here on diplomatic terms, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” the lieutenant replied steadily.

“And for diplomacy to work, both sides need to be open to each other; to be able to respect each other as equals and willing to understand the differences between them in order to build amicable relations,” he continued carefully.

Lt. Matthias gave him a sidelong look. “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” he said.

Agnarr nodded slowly. “My father said that the Northuldra were backwards people. A fearsome race of warriors who could attack at any given moment, unprovoked. He’s even started acknowledging their use of magic back in Arendelle, but only to further support that view. That not only are they a tribal warrior race, but magic-users too,” he said.

The lieutenant considered his words for a moment. “What are you suggesting?”

“I just…” Agnarr paused and sighed, frustrated at how difficult it was to express himself. “I’m not… certain… that holding that sort of mindset towards them is particularly conducive for diplomacy. Or even if-” He caught himself before he could finish his sentence. Was it too soon? Lt. Matthias had always been a stringent follower of the rules and the status quo, would be berate him for speaking so boldly?

“Even if what, Prince Agnarr?”

Agnarr looked up at him hesitantly, the man who had guarded over him since birth, always unyielding in his duty. The lieutenant regarded him with kind eyes, gently encouraging him to go on, and suddenly, Agnarr felt immensely relieved. He steeled his nerve again before continuing. “I’m not certain if that perception of the Northuldra is even accurate.”

There was a long stretch of silence. Agnarr looked back towards Lt. Matthias, worried that he had read the situation wrong, but sensed no judgement coming from him. Only a quiet sort of contemplativeness. He considered elaborating more, if only to fill in the silence, but decided against it at the last moment. He wanted to hear what the lieutenant thought.

“The Northuldra have a long history of conflict with Arendelle,” he said after a while. “My grandfather lost his life defending our kingdom in one of their raids. They have treated us with hostility since the kingdom’s founding.”

“But so have we,” Agnarr replied. “Our relationship with them has long been marred with battle and hatred and fear. Neither side has sought out to understand the other, to assuage some of those fears that have driven the conflict for so long. Until now, that is. But those efforts may very well be in vain if we refuse to leave behind our old ways of thinking and seeing the world.” He paused for a moment and tried to make out some semblance of expression from the lieutenant’s impassivity, but to no avail. Instead, he went on. “The Northuldra are a strong tribe of warriors, that much is true. But that’s not all that they are. They are fathers, daughters, elders and children. They draw wisdom from their spirits and their surroundings, and revere the land that they live on. They run, and work, and play, and laugh, and converse amongst themselves,” he went on, his voice growing louder and more impassioned by the second. Then, more quietly, he said, “When it comes down to what’s important, there is no difference between us and them.”

A beat of silence passed. “People are slow to change,” the lieutenant finally said. “The long history of suffering and battle between our people, those kinds of wounds don’t heal very easily. The peace during this period is tenuous, at best. And when things are uncertain, there’s no harm in taking certain precautions for your safety and being on guard.”

“Change doesn’t begin with such shows of bad faith and mistrust,” Agnarr insisted. “It begins with cooperation and mutual respect. That’s the way forward towards steady and long lasting peace.”

Lt. Matthias looked over at him, his eyes holding some inexplicable emotion that Agnarr couldn’t recognise, but made him feel warm nonetheless. “Yes,” he said, regarding the Arendellian camp up ahead with a strange sort of pride. “I suppose so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes, i named iduna's magical song after the spectacularly talented aurora featured on the soundtrack, what about it)
> 
> i've also been looking back over all my notes for this story over the past few days, partly for fun, partly to try and get my mind back into this project and i fOUND my very first brainstorm!! i literally remember going home after seeing the film for the first time and then word vomiting a bunch of things in my notebook. there's this one page dedicated to 'what's missing'; i.e, all the worldbuidling-related questions i had after the movie, and everything i hoped to answer with this fic. thought i'd share it with you guys and when you get to the end, you guys can let me know if i succeeded :))
> 
> what's missing?  
> * was it solely runeard's decision to attack the northuldra, or did everyone in arendelle share that same sentiment?  
> * why were the arendellians afraid of the northuldra? and (possibly) vice versa? political tensions?  
> * is there a connection between the dam's completion and the spirits rebelling?  
> * how did the magical fog come about? mythical explanation?  
> * northuldra creation story? northuldra spirituality?  
> * how come none of the other northuldra recognised/heard the song from ahtohallan?  
> * why was iduna so willing to leave her family and people during the battle?
> 
> check me out on tumblr if you want!! apparently my links aren't working, but my @ is hungryhungryhippo3 :))


	3. a beating heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked up at her hesitantly. “Y-You said my name correctly,” he said in disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (lets ignore the fact that i'm a few days late with my update schedule 😅)

Agnarr had only ever been invited to one Arendellian High Council meeting. It happened shortly after his fourth visit to the Enchanted Forest, at the beginning of all the Yuletide festivities. Father was to address the people formally about all that had happened over the course of the year; harvest yields, infrastructure projects, trade and foreign relations. True to the traditions laid down by Queen Solveig, the King would ensure that the people were informed about every major decision and action of their ruler over the year, and that morale was kept high. Agnarr had been invited to help draft the section about Northuldra relations, and it was easily one of the most tedious tasks he had ever been subjected to. He had been excited at first—of course he had, he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for what seemed like his entire life—until he realised the excessive layers of formality to everything, from the way he looked at certain councillors in addressing them, to how he sat in his chair whilst other councillors were speaking. The air was so strangled with propriety, he was surprised any of them had room to breathe.

The council meeting at the Northuldra’s new campsite between the tribe’s elders and the Arendellian delegates was nothing like that.

The Northuldrian elders joked around with each other freely, and would sometimes divulge from the main discussions to ask the delegates about their own lives; how their wives and children were doing back at home, their favourite pastimes on weekends, or even advice about which flowers would bring the most cheer to their loved ones. It was often up to Father, or sometimes Chief Dorste, to steer the discussions back on track. He remembered Iduna once mentioning to him the lack of titles her people used when addressing their elders, but he never could have imagined the extent to which that extended even to what he considered a formal occasion. And despite the way that many of the delegates felt about the lack of ceremony, judging from the discrete annoyance in their features every time the discussions digressed, Agnarr secretly preferred it to all the stiff propriety of an Arendellian High Council.

He wasn’t technically part of the meeting—the Councillors still thought him too young to be partaking in ‘such important and delicate matters of state’—but Father had finally convinced them to at least let him observe. He sat in the back of the tent near the open flap that let in the spring breeze, and listened in intently as they discussed the dam project, which was quickly nearing its halfway point towards completion.

“So, King Runeard. We have already discussed the usefulness of this dam of yours to our people, but one thing still intrigues me.” The small conversations around the tent ceased as Elder Ivaar leaned across the small table to address his father. Agnarr noticed that he was one of the elders, aside from Chief Dorste, that the other Northuldrians seemed to respect. His father turned his attention towards the Northuldrian elder, regarding him inquisitively. “How does it benefit Arendelle?” 

All eyes immediately turned towards the King, and Agnarr found himself leaning forward in anticipation. They all knew the official reason; the dam was a peace offering, a show of good faith and trust, and in some way, compensation for all the fighting between their nations in the past. That was the rationale Father had presented to the elders when he first proposed it, and the exact sentiment in all his speeches to the rest of the High Council and the people back in Arendelle. But judging from how even the delegates looked towards the King with discreet curiosity, it appeared that the answer to Elder Ivaar’s question had not been discussed amongst the High Council. It would be tricky to fall back on the rationale they were all familiar with; some elders might perceive it as avoiding the question. And he had to be careful about coming up with an answer that would promise anything of Arendelle without the High Council’s formal approval.

His father sat wordlessly at the head of the table for a few moments as the entire room held its breath. He looked back at Elder Ivaar, his eyes inscrutable. Then, in the cool and reserved voice he used for formal occasions, he finally spoke. “Well for one, all these visits to the Forest in overseeing the dam’s progression are relieving Arendelle’s courts of Minister Steinar’s… _severe_ presence.”

Minister Steinar huffed in a mixture of annoyance and surprise, and laughter erupted all around the room. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, respecting the rules and traditions our good Queen and her first counsel set during the kingdom’s founding does not make me _severe_ ,” the Councillor protested.

“Oh, knock it off, Minister Steinar!” Minister Rolf chimed in between guffaws. “Your breeches are fastened so tightly, it’s a wonder you can walk at all!” He turned towards the Northuldrian leaders with a smirk. “His wife tells my daughter that he sleeps with all his medals pinned to his nightshirt, and he spends quite a good deal of time every morning on perfecting the shape of his moustache.”

“And what of it?” Minister Steinar shot back, puffing his chest out proudly.

Another round of hearty laughter burst forth from both the delegates and the Northuldra elders, and the tension that had silently been building since Elder Ivaar first asked his question had been diffused completely.

“In all honesty, Elder Ivaar,” the King said once the laughter began to subside. “Aside from it being our gift to the Northuldra, we were hoping that the dam would bring some employment opportunities to both Arendellians and Northuldrians alike. Arendelle has experienced many blessings as of late; our population is steadily increasing, and there are more and more young people finishing their education and apprenticeships. We are very grateful for our rising skilled population, but Arendelle is still a small kingdom, with limited jobs.”

“You wish to create more jobs to accomodate for your growth,” Elder Ivaar said.

His father nodded. “The dam will need to be maintained once it is finished; desalination plants, offsetting erosion, maintaining its structural integrity, etc. There are many skilled men and women in Arendelle who not only know how to keep it in good shape, but are able to train local workers from the Forest. I’d imagine that it will allow our people to get to know each other and live amicably over time as well. Of course, the final decision still lies within the hands of the Northuldra. The dam is, after all, on your property.”

It was an answer grounded in substantial policy action, although still acknowledged the symbolic dimensions as a gift of peace. In doing so, his father was able to avoid framing his answer as if it were some surreptitious scheme that the Arendellians had been caught concealing. And the relocation of Arendellian workers into the Forest to work on the dam was already on the High Council's agenda. Albeit, it was temporarily tabled until it was closer to the dam's completion, but his father could easily argue that he hadn't blind-sided the rest of the Council. It was exactly the right thing to say.

The elders around the table shared looks amongst themselves, murmuring to each other in their native language. Agnarr couldn’t understand what they were saying, but he thought that they looked impressed. He looked back towards his father in admiration, who was watching everything unfold amicably, but carefully. Father had handled the situation with such grace and unfailing confidence; Agnarr would never have guessed the precarity of the situation Father had just walked into if he did not know how to read the subtle cues in the expressions of each delegate.

“Property. That’s an interesting choice of word.”

All eyes turned towards Chief Dorste, who sat at the opposite end of the table to the King. Immediately, the tension began to rise again. Out of all the Northuldra leaders present, he was the only one who seemed doubtful about the King’s answer.

“In our language, there is no word for ‘property’. The dam may exist on the land on which we live, but we certainly do not _own_ it in the way that that word implies. Yes, we use the land and its abundance for our needs. But we also care for it as our own; we make sure we can replenish what we take, and we heed its needs.”

The elders all appeared reverent as their chieftain spoke, and there was no longer any trace of their earlier mirth in their expressions. It was as if they had entered the presence of something that commanded veneration. It reminded Agnarr of entering the chapel near the Palace. A cold, but not a malicious, air of solemnity descended down upon them. The delegates looked towards the King uneasily.

“Chief Dorste, I did not mean any disrespect,” the King said.

The chief smiled thinly. “There was no offense taken, I assure you, King Runeard. I simply offer you a lesson, if you will. And perhaps some advice for future policy decisions with our people,” he said. His gaze swept over each of the delegates calmly. “To Arendelle, Country has always been a place, a territory for your people to settle upon, to build cities and palaces, to rule and govern over, to house your kingdom. But to the Northuldra, Country is alive. We are made of the same substance of the earth, and the fires, and the wind, and the waters. It is deeply connected to us all, in everything that we do. It holds all memories of our past, present and our future. Everything we do, we do with, through and for Country.”

The King regarded the chief across the table wordlessly for a moment. “Forgive me, Chief Dorste, I do not think I understand what you mean by ‘Country’. Are you referring to your Elemental Spirits?”

“The Elemental Spirits, the trees, the mountains, the valleys, the plains, the rivers, the animals of the forest, the Northuldra. Country encompasses us all; it governs—to use one of your words—all things. Even I, in my position as the Chieftain of the Northuldra, bow down to Country.”

A flicker of something unreadable passed through Father’s eyes at the last part, but it was gone so quickly, Agnarr doubted he saw it at all. Instead, the King straightened ever so slightly in his seat and cleared his throat. “Well, I know that Minister Hella began drafting some plans regarding environmental considerations. We’ve left it outside in one of our carts, but you are all most welcome to take a look. I’m certain that the High Council would appreciate your insights,” he said.

Chief Dorste smiled warmly. “We would be pleased to do that.”

Although the atmosphere remained solemn and subdued, the earlier tension had dissipated, and Agnarr caught a few of the delegates sighing in relief when none of the elders were looking. The King nodded curtly and turned towards him. “Prince Agnarr, would you mind getting those plans for us?”

Agnarr immediately shot to his feet, happy to do something. “Of course, Father. Should I summon Lt. Matthias?” he asked.

“That won’t be necessary. It’s only a short walk to the horses,” he replied.

Agnarr nodded and bowed a little awkwardly before slipping out through the flap.

A small gale of wind rushed through his hair as he headed off, carrying with it the fresh scent of flowers blooming with the season. The horses and carts that they had arrived in were stationed on the far side of the settlement, across a few paces of forest. Although he knew the way well enough, he couldn’t help how his stomach fluttered nervously as he wandered through the trees. It was the first time he had been allowed to be left alone for this long since his first visit. There was still the possibility of getting lost, or accidentally wandering into someplace he shouldn’t be, or getting himself stuck in a deeper part of the forest.

He had just entered the woodland beyond the Northuldra settlement when suddenly, a small flame burst into life a few paces before him. His heart jumped in his chest and he startled back, before he noticed that rather than the golden colour of the candles in his study, the flame was bright pink. Agnarr approached it cautiously, making sure to keep a safe distance away, and paused to observe it properly. It was tiny; it couldn’t have been larger than his fist. But it flickered almost rhythmically in the wind like a small heartbeat.

As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared in another burst of light. Agnarr blinked at the spot it had just been burning in, trying to comprehend what he just saw. He had seen fire in different colours back in Arendelle, but he had never seen a flame with that particular pink hue. And he had definitely never seen it spontaneously appear—or disappear, for that matter—before.

Before he could dwell on it too much, another gale blew through his path, entangling leaves in his hair, before racing towards the carts on the other side. Agnarr straightened up and brushed the wind’s deposits off of him before setting out towards the horses again. Maybe he could ask Iduna about it later, if he saw her. Hopefully, he would. But for now, he had a task to do.

It wasn’t long before he was startled again by another small flame erupted onto the path before him, and he found himself stopping to stare. His stomach was beginning to churn uncomfortably as he watched it dance in the breeze; it must’ve come from a stray ember that had been picked up by the wind from a nearby fire. Suddenly, a terrifying thought came to him; what if there was a bushfire nearby? He had never seen a bushfire before for himself, but he had heard stories of how quickly they could spread, especially on windy days such as today. It wouldn’t be long until it reached the Northuldra settlement and threatened to burn the entire area to the ground, including the tent where the Arendellian delegates and Northuldra elders were having their meeting.

He searched his surroundings wildly for the source of the little flame, but to no avail. The sky was clear of the telltale rise of smoke, and the air remained as fresh and fragrant as it always had been. It must’ve come from someplace else; there was much in the forest that made excellent fuel, and there had been cases of trees spontaneously combusting when the temperature was high enough. Agnarr turned his attention back to the fire before him and strode over. At least he had found this one early; he still had the ability to snuff it out.

Just as he had made up his mind, it disappeared again. Already caught up in his own momentum, he stomped over the spot awkwardly, stumbling a little as he tried to correct his balance. Weird.

If he hadn’t been on his guard before, he definitely was now. Agnarr turned away from the spot where the fire had appeared and carried on, picking up his pace. He had to get those plans and get back to the tent as soon as possible.

It had barely been a few moments since the thought crossed his mind when another flame emerged, this time right at his feet. He yelped and threw himself backwards, barely having enough time to brace his arms and cushion his fall. He landed hard on his elbows, scrambling away from the fire.

 _Okay, that was definitely not normal_.

He pushed himself into a seating position and observed the flame warily—and gasped. He whirled around behind him and looked for the spots the flame had been burning earlier, and just as he suspected, there was no evidence that those areas had been on fire in the first place. He turned towards the little fire again and blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing it correctly. Despite the bright pink flame flickering before him, the ground below it remained untouched. As he continued to watch the little heartbeat of a flame, his earlier uneasiness melted away, replaced by a strange sense of calm. Although it seemed to defy all the rules of science that he had been taught, he was certain that there was nothing malicious about it.

Agnarr slowly rose to his feet, keeping his eyes on the fire the whole time. His instincts told him that it was okay, that if he just carried on with his business and retrieved the plans, there would be no trouble. He walked around it and went on towards the horses.

_But what if it wasn’t okay? What if it grew into a real bushfire, all because I left it alone?_

He hesitated a few paces onwards and turned around. The fire was still burning where he left it, as small and seemingly harmless as it had always been. Father had always reprimanded him for being too impulsive, for following his gut when he should’ve been following the facts. It had been the only thing he had asked of Agnarr since they arrived in the Forest; to do the right thing and make his decisions based on facts. And the fact was that fire left burning unattended was dangerous. Despite what his instincts told him, there was nothing logical about the observations he had made about the little fire before him. And whatever its true nature was, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

He approached the flame carefully, trying to ignore the knot of apprehension in his stomach. His instincts hadn’t changed; in fact, he felt worse off now that he had made up his mind. But it didn’t matter what he felt. What mattered was doing the right thing.

Without another moment of hesitation, the flame disappeared with a soft hiss under the sole of his boot. He exhaled softly in relief and turned on his heel, determined to get back to the tent as quickly as possible.

All of a sudden, the forest erupted into bright pink flames all around him. The thick scent of smoke quickly filled the air and the heat bore down relentlessly on his face. For a moment, every nerve in his body was paralysed, unable to look away as the flames licked the trees and spread throughout their branches reaching out to one another. Then, a stray burst of flame the size of a ceremonial orb leapt out of a tree, hurtling directly towards him. In an instant, all of his senses slammed back into his body and he let out a shriek, falling into a crouch and covering his head mere seconds before the fire whizzed through the space his head had previously occupied. The ground exploded into flames as it hit the floor, sealing off the path from which he came.

Agnarr shot to his feet and raced ahead, only to be cut off by a loud snap, and a branch blazing bright pink falling at his feet. He stumbled to a halt and turned sharply in another direction, only to be cut off again. And again, and again, and again. Panic began to fill his mind as he searched desperately amongst the rapidly growing flames for a way out.

“Help!” he cried out as another burst of fire sealed off another possible exit. “Lt. Matthias! Father! Somebody, please help me!” His vision was increasingly becoming blurry, but he wasn’t sure whether the tears were from the smoke or his sheer panic. He searched wildly for an escape, but the flames were closing in faster than he could think. He could feel himself nearing closer and closer to the edge, his senses overrun by terror and smoke, his mind empty of all else but cold, white fear.

Suddenly, he spotted a tiny opening a few paces to his right. It was barely wide enough for him to squeeze through, but he had no other options. Swallowing down his fear, he tucked his head into his chest and crossed his arms over his face, and thundered through the gap.

He cried out in pain as the flames licked at the bare skin on his hands, but he pushed it down and focused on running. The fire chased after him, biting at his heel and consuming everything in its path. He weaved through the trees and leapt over fallen logs as best as he could, but the flames pursued him relentlessly, matching his pace at every turn, flying through the trees with ease. The smell of smoke burned in his lungs as he began to cough violently, and it was getting harder to think by the second.

His foot suddenly caught on a raised piece of forest floor and he tripped, tumbling over the edge of some hill and hurtling downwards. He barely had the energy to tuck his limbs into himself before he was slammed against something hard; some sort of rock, by the feel of it, and the sick churning in his stomach that came with the rapid movement halted.

In the haze of his vision, he watched helplessly as the bright pink flames crept down the hill he had just come down and spread slowly towards him. Every muscle in his body ached tremendously and his throat was raw with all his coughing. It was becoming more and more of an effort to keep his eyes open. He was about to die, and he didn’t even have the strength to watch it happen.

A shadow blocked out the blazing light and he heard a light thud just before him. In the sliver of space between his rapidly closing eyelids, he saw a figure with their face covered to protect them from the smoke standing before him. _Smart,_ he thought weakly. He thought he saw the flames hesitate at their feet, but it was getting harder and harder to tell what was real. The figure before him turned around, and the darkness closed in around him.

***

Something was tickling his face. A cool breeze washed over his cheeks and through the thin material of his clothes, and his hands were covered with something sticky, but soothing. Somewhere to his left, water lapped gently at the shore.

Agnarr opened his eyes. He blearily took note of the pink and golden sky, the curve of the earth around him, the curtain of brown hair on his cheek. He was in the cove that he had followed Iduna into the first time they met. His eyes followed the brown waves up to a familiar face, her brows furrowed together in concentration, the tiniest hint of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she gently worked something cool onto his neck.

The warm sensation of relief billowed out through his chest at the sight of her. “Iduna,” he croaked out.

Her icy blue eyes snapped to his in an instant. “Oh, thank Akanidi you’re awake!” she cried out, putting the ivory pot she was holding down by his head and gathering her hair behind her shoulders. “Can you sit?”

He tested his limbs, moving them a little. As expected, his muscles ached with the movement, but nothing felt unbearably painful. He began to shift his weight onto his palms when she suddenly grabbed his wrists. “No! Your hands are still recovering from those burns. And I just put a heap of cooling salve onto them, I am not letting you wipe it all away and waste it.” She guided his arms into position and reached under him. “Here, use your elbows,” she instructed. He did as he was told as she heaved him upwards against a rock behind him.

Iduna searched his expression worriedly. “Does it hurt anywhere else? You’ve got some pretty bad burns on your hands and a smaller one on your neck as far as I can tell. It’s a good thing you were wearing all that clothing, otherwise it might’ve been worse,” she said.

He suddenly realised that he was in nothing but his trousers and undershirt. Heat immediately rushed to his cheeks and he ducked his head away from her gaze. If Madame Gilda knew that he was alone with a girl in this state of undress, she would throw a fit.

“What’s happening, are you okay? Do you have any other injuries?” came Iduna’s voice again.

“No, no! I mean, I think I’ve got a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing life-threatening.”

“Then why is your face so red?” She gasped. “Is it a fever? Oh, Spirits, I should’ve known to check for infection-”

“I’m in my underwear,” he blurted out, daring to look at her again. As the words left his mouth, he felt his ears heat up even more.

Her eyes snapped to his, her mouth forming a silent ‘oh’, and traversed down his body. As if the situation couldn’t get any more mortifying. “Don’t look at me like that!” he shrieked, doing his best to cover himself with his arms. “I just told you I’m in my underwear, you’re supposed to look away in shame!”

She burst into laughter, the kind that had her falling onto her back and clutching her sides. He found himself caught off guard by the way her whole body shook, how she squeezed her eyes shut, how the sound reached out to him and momentarily swept his worries away. She looked so free and happy.

Then her laughter began to subside and Agnarr remembered to scowl. “ _That’s_ what you consider underwear?” she said, her eyes still shining with mirth. “You’re really living up to that whole ‘Arendellian stiff’ thing, you know that?” She stood up and walked over to his pile of clothes behind the rock he was leaning on and returned with his jacket, haphazardly draping it over him. It smelt of smoke and there were many charred bits on the sleeves and back, but it was otherwise intact. He shifted around and struggled to ease it on. Iduna rolled her eyes and helped him slip his last arm into the sleeve before adjusting it over his shoulders properly.

“Thank you,” he said. “You know, for saving my life and everything.”

She sat back on her heels and regarded him wordlessly for a minute. “The Fire Spirit is supposed to be one of the more peaceful spirits. It doesn’t usually blaze an inferno like that. Why was it chasing you?” she asked.

Agnarr looked at her in shock. “That was an Elemental Spirit?”

She nodded. “You must have known it was no ordinary fire,” she said.

He groaned and reached up to cover his face, before remembering about the salve. He let his arm drop back to his side. “I did,” he said, thinking back on its absurd pink colour and its spontaneity in appearing and disappearing without any fuel source. “It kept popping up along my path and I was worried it would escalate into a full bushfire and threaten the whole settlement, so I put it out with my shoe.”

There was a beat of silence. “You did _what?!_ ”

The sick and familiar feeling of guilt began to creep into the fringes of his mind and he looked away determinedly, bracing himself for the inevitable torrent of anger. It was usually the same thing; that he needed to stop acting like a child, that it was not becoming of him to run off and do things without reason, that he would disgrace Queen Solveig’s legacy if he didn’t start thinking with his head. He had heard it a countless number of times before, but that didn’t mean it got easier. He could only sit there and take it, willing himself with every fibre of his being not to cry. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Another moment of silence passed. Every nerve in Agnarr’s body was wound up so tight, he thought he would explode. Waiting was always the worst part.

Then, he felt a light pressure on his ankle. “Prince Agnarr.” Her voice was so soft.

He looked up at her hesitantly. “Y-You said my name correctly,” he said in disbelief.

Iduna snorted a laugh and shrugged half-heartedly. She fixed her eyes on him. “Why did you aggravate the Fire Spirit?” she asked gently.

For a minute, he sat there blinking at her in surprise, his head still trying to catch up with the fact that he wasn’t being berated. It caught him off guard, the steady kindness in her eyes, ready to hear him out. It was enough to quell the dark feeling in his chest and let him think clearly. “It was a harmless little flame when it first appeared to me. I noticed all it’s peculiarities right away, nothing about it obeyed the laws of science. There was much reason for me to be cautious. But-” He paused abruptly and frowned to himself. How was he going to explain that inexplicable feeling he got, almost strong enough to convince him to leave it alone?

“But?” Iduna probed.

He looked back at her a little helplessly. “This is going to sound crazy,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I live in the Enchanted Forest,” she reminded him. “What counts as crazy to you will probably be common knowledge to me.”

He nodded. The amount of times he found himself questioning what he knew after something she had told him—she probably knew more about it than he did. “As I was watching it flicker there like a little heartbeat, I got this strange feeling of, of benevolence about it? As if I had no reason to fear it,” he said. “And something told me it would be okay to pass it by and leave it alone.”

He watched her expression carefully as he spoke, and took relief in how she nodded along in understanding. “The Fire Spirit is the youngest of its kin,” she said. “When Wind, Water and Earth were created, the world was a cold, dark place, and completely silent. After Fire was created, it brought light and warmth, and made the world hospitable.” She paused and looked away thoughtfully, almost as if she was recalling something from memory. “It’s no coincidence you saw a heartbeat when you looked at the flame. The Fire Spirit is the spirit of life itself.” 

She looked back at him, her brows creased in worry. “Lately, it’s grown bolder with making its presence known to the Northuldra. It’s usually one of the more reserved of the Spirits, but there have already been at least ten sightings over the past week; bushes randomly bursting alight, trees erupting into flames without warning. Usually harmless tricks of the mischievous kind,” she said. “I’ve never heard of it outright attacking anyone, most especially a foreigner to the Forest.”

“Yeah, well, no one else has been stupid enough to provoke it, either,” he said bitterly. The heavy feeling of guilt began to settle in his chest again. He sighed and looked back at her. “I just wanted to do the right thing,” he said quietly. “My father-” He ducked his head and swallowed hard. That was territory that he did not want to venture into, nor was he ready to unpack. “A good king doesn’t make his decisions based on a mere feeling,” he continued. “He studies the facts and draws a conclusion based on logical reasoning. There are always people counting on him. One wrong move could be disastrous for everyone.”

The longer he sat there ruminating on his actions, the more that sick feeling of failure weighed down on his chest. It seemed that ever since he had arrived in the Forest, all he ever succeeded in doing was messing up. He had gotten himself in trouble for running off after being locked out of the first meeting between the delegates and the elders, he had gone off and offended Iduna by pointing a crossbow at her, and now he couldn’t even be trusted to retrieve some plans from the carts unaccompanied. The Forest was supposed to be an opportunity for him to prove himself and show everyone that he was worthy of his birthright. To prove to the Council that he was a respectable heir to the kingdom, and most importantly, that he could be a son that Father could be proud of. But the only thing he had proven was how much of a fraud he really was. He was nothing like the perfect heir they wanted of him. All he had brought since he arrived was disappointment and shame.

He heard Iduna shifting before him. “Hey, look at me.”

Agnarr slowly raised his eyes towards her. She was sitting much closer than before, within arms reach at his side. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he looked into her eyes, but it definitely wasn’t this. A quiet firmness and determination that seemed to dare him to disagree. “What happened with the Fire Spirit today was a mistake. You were trying to make the right choice with the limited information that you had. It does _not_ make you a failure,” she asserted. “I don’t know much about how you do things in Arendelle, but I know that our leaders protect the tribe. They are always after the good of our people before they even think about their own comfort. That’s what being a good leader is all about. You put out that fire because you were trying to look out for people who aren’t even your own.” Then she smiled, a strange mixture of admiration and reassurance. “Hold on to that, and you will always make the right choice. It might not always be the right call, but it’ll always be the right choice.”

The knot in his chest began to ease. He found himself hanging on to her every word.

“And doing the right thing doesn’t always mean making a decision with all the facts. Because the reality is that you won’t always have them. Wisdom doesn’t always come from up here,” she said, pointing to her head. “Sometimes, it comes from here, too,” she said, gesturing to her chest. Then she reached out and touched his leg. Despite the clothing in between, the contact sent a jolt throughout his whole body. “A good king might need a good head on his shoulders to lead your kingdom. But I know you’ve also got a good heart. Have some faith in it every once in a while.”

For a moment, he could only hold her gaze wordlessly, in awe of the girl before him. Her eyes held such conviction and strength, it was impossible not to believe her. He had always found it difficult to find the right words to express himself in these sorts of matters, but she spoke clearly without hesitation or reserve, as if she spoke the truth. She called him out of the dark spiral he was rapidly being consumed by as easily as she called for the wind.

Warmth began to blossom in his chest and he couldn’t help but smile at her. By some inexplicable force, he found himself reaching for her hand on his leg… 

Before immediately hissing in pain and flinching away. Immediately, Iduna’s expression became concerned. “Spirits, be careful! It’s not easy harnessing the Earth’s healing gifts to make that salve,” she said, fussing over his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” he replied a little too quickly, looking away in attempts to hide the surge of heat to his face. _Get it together, Agnarr!_ Being alone with a girl in his underwear would be more than enough fodder for scandal if anyone from Arendelle found out, reaching out for her hand as boldly as he did would cause an uproar.

“Are you sure? You’re looking a little feverish again,” she said.

“Iduna! I’m okay, I promise! I was just curious about that salve you were putting on my burns—harnessing the Earth’s healing gifts?” he said, eager to change the subject. He straightened up against the rock and watched her reapply the salve with great interest. “I know the Northuldra have a special connection to everything in the Forest. But earlier before I passed out, I saw you stop the Fire Spirit. And you’ve always referred to the Wind Spirit as your friend.” She was watching him curiously as he fitted the pieces together. “You can talk to the Spirits, can’t you?”

She paused in her task, considering his question carefully. “It’s not so much as talking to them,” she replied after a while, putting the ivory pot down. “But I can sense what they’re feeling, what they want, their motivations and desires. Or, at least, I’m learning to. Everyone in my family can. It’s our gift and our burden.”

He shifted in his position to face her properly. “So, not every Northuldrian can communicate with the Spirits as you do?” he asked.

She shook her head in response. “That’s why it’s our responsibility to learn the ways of the Spirits, so we know how to communicate with them and aid our leaders in protecting the tribe. We know the Spirits most intimately out of the Northuldra, and we mediate between the human world and the spirit world,” she explained. Then her expression grew sombre. “It is our duty to maintain the balance.”

Her words seemed to carry a profound weight, like a truth that she was struggling with. Agnarr had quickly gotten used to moving along and trusting her when he encountered something he didn’t understand, but this felt different. This time, he could tell that she had some personal stake in the subject, something that was troubling her. It made his stomach twist uncomfortably, to see her look so miserable. And although he would never pry and force her to divulge something she didn’t want to—he understood the feeling a little too well—he wanted nothing more than to give her what sliver of comfort he could.

“Iduna,” he said softly, immediately drawing her attention. He offered her a reassuring smile. “In that case, I’m glad it was you who found me.”

She stared at him in surprise, before she quickly recovered and returned his smile with a grateful one of her own. “You damn right should be,” she said, the usual sparkle returning to her eyes. “I have three brothers, I’ve seen a lot of stupid in my day. But the crown for the biggest idiot definitely has to go to you, Prince Underwear.”

He blinked at her, barely bothered by yet another nickname, and only scoffed. It had become routine at this point. “You called me by my actual name earlier, I know you’re capable of doing it,” he said in a half-hearted jest.

She smirked. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Agnarr feigned annoyance and rolled his eyes, but he was struggling to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I think you’re holding back,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“Because in all the ridiculous names you’ve come up for me, you’ve never neglected to keep some aspect of my royal title, when there’s way more fun in coming up with something new entirely,” he said. Then, he let the teasing grin break through onto his features. “Am I not correct?”

She held his gaze unflinchingly, the same smirk on her lips. Her eyes gleamed mischievously, as if there was something ironic in what he had just said. “Well, I didn’t want to disrespect the _Crown Prince of Arendelle_ ,” she replied mockingly.

Suddenly, it hit him. The grin melted off his face immediately and he sat there, gaping at her. “It’s because I introduced myself as _Prince_ Agnarr, isn’t it?”

If possible, her smirk grew wider. “So there’s a brain buried somewhere in that big head of yours after all,” she said wryly.

He groaned and gathered his knees to his chest, hitting his forehead on his knees multiple times. “Iduna, please just call me Agnarr,” he practically begged. He made a move to clasp his hands together before remembering the salve ( _damn his stupid burns!_ ), and settled instead for folding his arms in his lap.

She let out a laugh—one that was quickly becoming one of his favourite sounds in the world—and regarded him coolly, her eyes sparkling with playfulness. “You know I can’t do that,” she replied, feigning innocence. “Like I said before, where’s the fun in that?”

He groaned again and leaned his head back against the boulder, muttering curses at himself. Iduna only laughed harder, falling back on her back as her whole body was wracked with the sound. At first, he put up a front, holding on to his self pity and frustration at himself. But eventually, he caved in and stopped trying to catch himself from grinning. He found himself content to see her be completely unreserved and happy, her chest still shaking with laughter, an arm over her eyes to block out the glare of the sunset.

The sunset.

Agnarr suddenly noticed the sun over the water, barely touching the horizon and filling the sky with an array of golden and pink hues. All mirth and laughter immediately melted away from his thoughts, and he struggled to his feet. Iduna noticed the movement right away and sobered up, sitting up and helping him to his feet. He looked at her wildly. “It’s sunset!”

She frowned in confusion. “Yeah, you were out for hours after I found you,” she said.

His eyeballs might have well bulged out of his head. “ _Hours_?!” he shrieked. “I was only supposed to be gone for twenty minutes, Father will have my head-”

“I’ll bring you back,” she interjected, gathering the rest of his clothes before returning to his side. “Camp isn’t too far from here, as long as you can walk.”

He nodded and braced himself against her, rushing as best as he could. After a few paces of frustratedly hobbling along, he forced himself to ignore the soreness of his muscles and the fresh injuries along his legs and released Iduna to stride ahead. At least nothing seemed broken, and he was able to walk relatively decently unaided.

Eventually, they reached the top of the cove where the trees grew. The campsite was in sight behind the dense tree trunks and shrubbery. Agnarr turned towards it and began to rush away, when he felt Iduna grab his wrist. “You’re still injured,” she said, her brows creased in concern. “You should rest.”

He shook his head and gently pried his hand from her grasp. “Even if I am, there are still people counting on me,” he replied. “I’ve caused them enough grief for today.”

Something unreadable passed through her expression, but it was gone so quickly, he doubted it was there at all. Her eyes seemed to search his, pinning him in place with their intensity. Then she sighed softly and nodded once. “I understand,” she said. “Don’t do anything stupid on your way back, okay?”

As he held her gaze wordlessly, something within him shifted ever so slightly. A small seed of something warm and bright and full of unreserved happiness whenever he looked at her. And for a moment, even though he knew how desperately he needed to get back to his father, he didn’t want to leave her. He smiled at her softly. “No promises.”

The moment was over before he had really known he was in it in the first place. Suddenly, her eyes shifted to something over his shoulder. There was noise of horses galloping along the earth, and men and women were calling his name. The distinct sound of Lt. Matthias’ voice echoed the loudest amongst the trees. He had always made an effort to conceal his emotions, but even from this distance, the fear in his voice was palpable.

With one final glance at Iduna, he turned around and walked towards the sound of his guards, feeling more ready than ever before to return to his place.

***

When the sun had dipped well below the horizon, Iduna made her way to the big willow tree by the river, the spot where Jovsset and the other elders had been training them since their last migration. The river’s current had hastened a little when the winter had melted away, but it was still much smaller than it usually was at this time of the year, courtesy of the dam. She wasn’t entirely sure how much longer it would be until it would be finished; Uncle Ivaar had told her that the Arendellians predicted another few months, almost the rest of the year.

Although she was as excited as the next person to see what wonders the dam would bring, a part of her dreaded its completion. As long as the dam was still being built, there would be a reason for Agnarr to come to the Forest. He had easily become her best friend over the past few months since they had met (a real, _human_ friend), and she wasn’t sure if she’d get to see him as often as she did once the dam was finished. She knew how busy Uncle Ivaar could get as one of the elders counselling Dorste, she imagined that it wouldn’t be too different for Agnarr as the prince. Maybe when she was older, she would be the one to visit him in Arendelle.

She vaguely entertained the thought of her being in Arendelle as a grown up woman; wearing heavy skirts that covered her feet, keeping her hair in braids instead of freely wearing it down her back, wandering around streets and permanent buildings made of metal and stone rather than trees and forest paths. No one in Northuldra had ever been to the kingdom on an invitation. From what Agnarr had told her, it seemed like an entirely different world. It was hard to imagine that anyone from her tribe would willingly go and live there when Arendelle was so drastically different from the familiarity of the Forest. Sometimes, the elders of her family would be called away for long periods of time to live in the Spirit Nexuses, away from the familiarity of the tribe and the Forest. She wondered if she would be able to do the same if she was called to do her duty.

She thought about how Agnarr had so willingly put others before himself earlier that day; the entire campsite when he mistook the Fire Spirit for a bushfire, his guards that had been searching for him despite his injuries. In her compassion, she had assured him that that was what the essence of being a good leader. But she was beginning to understand that duty wasn’t all that different from leadership, either. She had always thought that duty was something that burdened adulthood and stripped life of its joy. It had become something she resented with a passion, that she tried to escape whenever she could. But seeing the selflessness that drove Agnarr’s decisions, the way he regarded his duty like both a burden and an honour; it helped her understand why it was so important to grow up and grow into her own duties.

Jovsset’s reflection appeared next to hers. He raised an eyebrow at the ash and soot on her clothes, the patches of dirt on her knees from when she raced around the forest in a panic, looking for the ingredients to make Agnarr’s salve. “Is that a burn salve I smell on you?” he asked.

Iduna cursed her eagerness. In her hurry to get to the lesson spot, she had forgotten to clean herself off completely. The smell of the burn salve, as well as smoke and burning trees, still lingered on her. She carefully kept her expression neutral and created some distance between them. “Alright, I was playing a little too close to the Fire Spirit when it got all crazy and I burnt myself. Just a little bit, on my finger,” she said airily.

His expression remained unyielding as he took a step towards her. “The Fire Spirit wouldn’t have behaved like that unless it was provoked,” he continued.

She shrugged noncommittally. “Well, _I_ didn’t provoke it,” she said carefully. “I, of all people, know better than to provoke any of the Spirits, you made sure of that. And besides, hasn’t it been acting a little weird lately? It’s not so impossible to think that it blew up like that on its own.”

Something like deep concern flickered through his eyes at the mention of the Fire Spirit’s recent erratic behaviour, and Iduna felt silently relieved. She had tried to keep her friendship with Agnarr under wraps from the other Northuldra children. Her older sisters had been able to pry it out of her early on; she had never been very good at hiding things from Sonja or Elssa. But she knew she could trust them not to spread the word. She wasn’t sure what the elders would think about her being friends with the Prince of Arendelle, when they had been so cautious about the Arendellians in the lead up to their first visit.

“Alright,” Jovsset finally said in relentment. “Be more careful around the Fire Spirit, Iduna. Next time, I might not be around.” With that, he turned around and walked towards the other children and the elders who had begun to arrive.

Something in his words didn’t register. When she had found Agnarr at the base of the hill, she was completely alone. They were in a remote part of the forest much closer to their last settlement site than their current space. The plan was to grab Agnarr and get away as far as possible. She knew that there was no reasoning with the Fire Spirit once it blazed into an inferno as it did; Jovsset had always said that the best hope was to run away and take cover until it had exhausted itself. But as soon as she had landed in front of him, the flames had hesitated before ultimately receding. Almost as if they were being called back.

She ran after her cousin. “Jovsset, wait! Did you-”

“It’s good to see you early for once, little cousin,” he said, his eyes gleaming knowingly. “Now, get into position with the rest of the group. We will begin with mediation.”

Iduna gaped after him as he strode away before quickly finding her senses and joining her cousins on the ground. Mediation was her least favourite part of these lessons. But as she settled into position, she thought about how she knew how to harness the Earth’s spirit and scour its floors for the herbs she needed, how she had been able to listen for the faint call of the Water guiding her to the nearest water source where she could make Agnarr’s salve—even being able to sense the Fire Spirit’s fury long before she saw the smoke above the trees. And of course, the Wind Spirit rushing beside her, helping her carry Agnarr’s limp body.

 _Thank you_ , she told the Spirits as Jovsset began walking them through the exercise. And for a moment, she could almost feel them reach back to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love how we as a fandom have collectively agreed that agnarr is the more miserably-out-of-touch-with-his-own-damn-feelings one between the two, even though we had a sum total of 2 minutes of canon content, the power we have 😌💕✨🧚🏼
> 
> i'm also super curious to hear what you guys think of the lore elements!! that's definitely one of the first things i'm planning to rework at some point, but it's also one of my favourite parts of this story. let me know in the comments :))
> 
> talk to me on tumblr!!


	4. the path of the spirits (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My tribe doesn’t have boring history books and written accounts of past events. Our stories are preserved and passed down from generation to generation, orally through story-telling and our joiks, and visually in various art forms. Unlike you Arendellians, we actually know how to tell a good story, with ‘tell’ being the operative word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand i'm back on my regular update schedule!! (sort of.... it's only a few minutes past midnight in my timezone and that's what matters haha)
> 
> thank you again to everyone following along, both here on ao3 and when i post about it on tumblr <33 you guys are awesome.

There was an inexplicable stirring in her bones, a force that roused every nerve in her body and broke through the haze of unconsciousness. Iduna huffed in resignation and opened her eyes, immediately wide awake. She looked beside her; her sisters were still sound asleep. For a moment, she remained in her place, contemplating her options. Her mind was buzzing with energy, and it didn’t seem like she was going to fall back asleep any time soon. Maybe she would take a walk with the Wind Spirit around camp until she tired herself out.

She quietly rose from the furs and tugged on some extra clothes, wrapping her scarf around her shoulders for good measure. The weather had gotten chillier as of late, and the leaves had begun to fall with the turn of the season. Carefully, she undid the clasps sealing the lavvu shut for the night and slipped out.

Immediately, she was arrested by the sight of the lights filling the sky, gorgeous hues of green and purple so brilliant, it was almost as if it were day. It took all of her strength not to fall to her knees and simply stare. In previous years, she and her siblings would stay up as late as they could and watch the night sky, waiting for the lights to appear. Being the youngest of her siblings, she was usually the one to dose off first and miss the sight. It had only been over the past few years that she had been able to stay awake long enough alongside her older brothers and sisters. This year, the lights had arrived a little earlier than expected. Being the first one to see them, for once, was exhilarating.

A strong gale carrying a few autumn leaves suddenly rushed past her and beat down on her sisters’ lavvu, uncharacteristically aggressive. Then it raced past it and targetted the other lavvus one by one, bouncing off each tent like a pebble skidding across the surface of a lake. Iduna immediately scrambled to her feet and chased after the Wind Spirit anxiously.

“Hey! What are you doing? Stop that!” she called, being careful not to wake the others. But the Wind Spirit paid her no attention, carrying on with its nuisance unimpeded. Eventually, she had to stop and catch her breath, helplessly watching it torment the campsite. It had never been shy around her people, often freely revealing itself and indulging the children in their games and mischief, but lately, mischief had been the main thing on its mind. Its tricks had gotten more and more troublesome, especially now that autumn had arrived.

All of a sudden, it collected itself and pounded against the big goahti where Dorste and the other elders hosted the Arendellian delegates with such force, the outer poles began to lift from the spots they had been fastened to the ground. Panic filled her mind in an instant; the goahti contained a number of important items and documents from the meetings between their people. If it collapsed, its contents could easily be lost into the forest. She needed to stop the Wind Spirit immediately.

Making sure that no one else was around, she raced towards the goahti and called out with her aurora, singing out the melody her grandmama had warned her to hide. The effect was near instantaneous; the wind died down to a gentle breeze that circled the big tent playfully. It paused in front of the structure as it caught sight of her, before racing towards her excitedly, flying around her body like the spirit she had always known.

She glared at the empty space before her. “You almost blew down the Council’s goahti!” she chided. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The Wind Spirit stopped spinning and hovered before her, as if it were surprised by her outburst. Then it dipped lower to the ground and gently nudged at her hands, almost in apology.

“Uh, uh, you’re not getting off the hook that easily,” she said, snatching her arms away and folding them in front of her chest. “I won’t play with you until you’ve thought about your actions.”

The Wind Spirit stopped nudging against her and slowly hovered a pace away from her, bouncing in place pensively. Then it rushed towards the goahti again and straightened the poles that had been misplaced, pushing them firmly back into their spots. It flew back towards Iduna, practically vibrating in anticipation. She sighed in resignation and shook her head. “Okay, fine. I guess that makes up for the damage you’ve caused,” she said.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the Wind Spirit rocketed up above the campsite in excitement, before falling down just as quickly and orbiting her body again. At first, she tried to keep a straight face and look stern, but eventually she caved in, giggling as it weaved its way under her scarf and rushed out behind her, her scarf billowing out from her shoulders like a cape.

“I was actually looking for you when I came out,” she told it as she returned to her lavvu. “I guess I’m awake now. What do you want to do?”

The Wind Spirit bounced eagerly at the question, as if it had been waiting for her to ask, and immediately began to push her towards the path that led to the tents belonging to the Arendellian delegation. They usually returned to their kingdom at the end of their fortnightly visits, but they had been coming more frequently as the dam neared its completion, and their meetings stretched longer and longer into the night. Eventually, everyone agreed that it was more practical for them to join the construction workers and engineers who were staying in the Forest until the dam was finished. 

She planted her feet on the ground and looked at the spirit in shock. “I can’t go there!” she hissed. “Papa would put me on reindeer poop duty for weeks if I’m caught!”

The Wind Spirit paused before her, unimpressed. It circled back behind her and pushed her again, more insistently this time. She struggled against it at first, listing out a hundred reasons as to why she’d be dead if she was caught in the Arendellian camp, but the Wind Spirit was unperturbed. Eventually, she found herself begrudgingly walking down the path, muttering complaints every once in a while.

Soon enough, the Arendellian banner appeared in sight, towering over the tents. Two guards were stationed in front of the middle tent where the banner was propped up against. If she had to guess, that was where King Runeard slept.

She continued on her way when the Wind Spirit suddenly rushed against her and pushed her towards the forest instead. She gave it an incredulous look. It hovered in front of her expectantly, before it seemed to lose its patience and she found herself being pushed again. She groaned in protest and walked in that direction.

“If I end up running into a wolf pack or something, I’m telling everyone it was your fault,” she grumbled. The Wind Spirit paused again at her comment, before circling behind her and blowing her hair all over her face. “Hey!” she cried out in indignation. The spirit hovered before her again, vibrating in amusement as she spat hair out of her mouth. Against her will, she snorted out a giggle. Then she quickly slammed her mouth shut, fixing a glare at it. The Wind Spirit fluttered closer to her face and hesitated, before suddenly rushing forward, whipping her hair out of her face. She gaped at it in shock for a moment, her fingers sliding over the utter birds nest that her hair had been tangled into… and burst out into laughter. Her hair was already difficult enough to manage as it was, she must’ve looked like some crazy lady.

When her laughter died down, the Wind Spirit continued on its way, leading Iduna deeper into the forest. Just when she thought she had lost sight of it, she found herself at the top of a hill clustered with trees in full view of the lights. In the distance, Agnarr sat at the base of a tree at the edge of the hill, his nose buried in a book. 

She smirked and climbed up the nearest tree, carefully making her away across the branches towards him. She slowly crawled onto the tree he sat under, making sure not to disturb the leaves too much, and glanced down at him. He was still as absorbed in his book as he always had been. Perfect. She found the branch directly above him and clamped her legs around it securely, waiting silently.

He reached up to turn the page and Iduna decided that that was as good a moment as any. She pushed herself off the branch and growled sharply, swinging in front of him upside down. Immediately, he jumped backwards and screamed girlishly, dropping his book onto his lap. Then he saw it was her and immediately sobered up, fixing her a glare. She burst into laughter. “Iduna!” he cried.

“What are you reading, Your Highness?” she managed out in between peals of laughter.

“Some new Danish author— _ what are you doing out here _ ?!”

Her laughter subsided. “Couldn’t sleep,” she replied. Then she pulled herself back up and gripped onto the branch, letting her feet swing down before lowering herself gently onto the ground. She nodded at the open pages on his lap “What’s it about?” she asked, peering over.

Before she could see properly, he snatched the book out of his lap and slammed it shut, looking away determinedly. “Just… something about… agricultural exports… and negotiation tactics…” he mumbled, his cheeks darkening.

It was obvious that he was lying, but she decided to go along with it. “Sounds fascinating,” she said. She knelt down and sat down next to him, and he immediately shifted over to make space for her. Whilst he was preoccupied, she snatched the book out of his hands and flipped it to the first page.

“Hey!” he protested. He reached back for the book, but she shoved him away with a giggle, keeping her eyes fixed on the page. At the bottom, there was a picture contained in a large rectangle; a man with a shadowy face standing under what looked to be a willow tree, but with shorter branches, and a naked woman with a fishtail for legs leaning against him. She frowned at the picture, trying to make sense of the half-fish, half-woman.

Agnarr had stopped trying to retrieve the book. She could feel his curious gaze on her as they silently sat together for a few moments. “Can you read?” he asked. Then he quickly added, “I-I mean that with the greatest respect, of course.”

She snorted a laugh. “No,” she replied airily. “But I guess the pictures are nice.” At that, he seemed to deflate in relief. She gave him a sidelong glance, fighting to conceal her smirk. “Although I do wonder how about the half-girl half-fish fits into your agricultural exports and negotiation tactics,” she said innocently, secretly amused at how he froze in a panic. “You’ve told me a lot about Arendelle, but I don’t think you’ve mentioned anything about fish girl? Fish women? Woman fish-”

“ _ Mermaid _ ,” he interjected. She looked at him with an eyebrow raised, and he sighed in resignation. “Alright, it’s a children’s fairytale,” he said. “All I’ve been reading over the past few weeks since we set up camp are the same three history books Father had packed for me, and the minutes from the Council meetings, if I’m lucky.” He nodded at the book in her hands. “I managed to sneak that with me before we left and these nights are the only time I can read it freely without being reprimanded. I had just finished the story when you dropped out of the sky and scared the living daylights out of me,” he said. There was a hint of irritation in his voice, but she could tell there was no real malice to his words; his eyes were gleaming softly as he looked at her.

She handed him back the book. “I love stories!” she said excitedly. “Tell me about the mermaid.”

He paused thoughtfully, his brows furrowing together. “I didn’t like it that much,” he said after a moment. “Many people have recommended that author and his works, so I thought to give it a try. But I wasn’t expecting  _ that _ sort of ending. Well, it  _ was _ a happy ending, I suppose, but still…” He trailed off and looked down at the book again, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Iduna shifted in her seat so she was leaning comfortably against the trunk. “Then tell me another story,” she said simply.

He looked back at her. “Another story?” he echoed.

“Yeah. One with a happy ending that you like.”

Agnarr looked out over the hillside pensively, murmuring her words under his breath. She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he racked his brains. Then eventually, his eyes flashed in realisation and he turned back to her, grinning in excitement. “Alright, I’ve got one,” he said. Then his expression took on an air of mystery and intrigue. “But this one’s no ordinary children’s tale. It’s a story of brave heroes and epic battles, a tale of leadership and sacrifice. And the best part about it is the fact that it’s all real.” He frowned at the last part. “Well, mostly real. Some parts I’m going to have to embellish for entertainment value,” he said.

At that, she giggled and shifted around to give him her full attention. She noticed him pause for a minute as she laughed, a glint of something she couldn’t quite recognise entering his eyes for just a moment. “Careful, don’t oversell it. I don’t know if it’s good yet,” she teased.

“Minor details, minor details,” he said nonchalantly. Then his expression turned serious again. “Now. Just beyond the Forest’s borders, there lies a worn down path of stone and earth that has been trampled by many feet…”

***

_ Just beyond the Forest’s borders, there lies a worn down path of stone and earth that has been trampled by many feet. When the path is followed across the fields of wild grass and thorned flowers, there stands a mighty cliff, almost high enough to reach the heavens. Below the cliff flows the River of Arenfjord _ ,  _ winding through the great fjord. And on the other side of the river once lived seven villages, each founded by various groups of settlers that had favoured the cool wind of such heights, and the constant rush of the river.  _

_ Although the people in these villages would have minor disagreements from time to time, they lived together in a tenuous peace. As long each villager remained within their territory and stayed out of trouble, they would tolerate each other. _

_ One evening, the leader of Arenfjord, the biggest and most powerful of the villages, received a prophecy in a dream. Gaspar dreamt of seven elks, all of different shapes and sizes, wandering aimlessly around a pasture, as elk do. Suddenly, a pack of wolves stormed into his dream, growling viciously and hungrily, and pounced on the youngest of the herd, devouring it in an instant. The other elk grew frightened and began to scatter in a frenzy, but they were unable to escape. The wolves had already circled on the herd, ready to feast. _

_ But before the wolves attacked again, a shepherd emerged from the herd’s midst, calming the elk one by one. He gathered the animals and stood before them, ready to protect them from the wolves. The herd, inspired by their shepherd’s bravery and love for them, grew fierce and strong. Together, they were able to drive the wolves away with a fearsome stampede that shook the earth. _

_ When Gaspar awoke that morning, he was very distressed. He immediately called for the village soothsayer and recounted his dream. Upon hearing it, the soothsayer appeared very grave. He told Gaspar, “There is a fleet of vicious vikings upon us. When they arrive, they will conquer us and destroy the villages that stand here one by one.” Gaspar was even more distressed at hearing this. But the soothsayer, seeing his panic, went on. “There is hope,” he said. “The time has come for us to unite as seven villages behind a king. A leader who will rally us together with their strength and courage, who will fight on the front lines rather than from the safety of a palace, who will fight not just for one allegiance, but for us all. Our king will lead us to victory.” _

_ “Who better than I to lead the seven villages?” Gaspar replied. “It was I to whom the dream was revealed, and it is I who will unite the people. With a show of my strength, I will rally them to Arenfjord.” _

_ Immediately, he set out to Holmestad, the nearest village. He told the people about his dream, and then went around helping the labourers, showing off his strength in carrying the largest stones and the heaviest cuts of bricks. Although the labourers were grateful for his help, many of the villagers were not convinced. Johann, the village leader, told Gaspar, “You have failed to rally the people of Holmestad behind you. I will go with you to Svolkier, and with my great knowledge of all things, I will bring the seven villages together.” _

_ But when they arrived at Svolkier, neither Gaspar nor Johann were able to convince the people. It was agreed that Andrias, the village leader, would join them to Marvik, but he, too, failed. Each village they entered only brought failure after failure and not a single leader could rally the people; not Gaspar of Arenfjord with all his strength, not Johann of Holmestad with his great knowledge of all things, not Andrias of Svolkier with his incredible speed and agility, not Sigvar of Marvik with his remarkable command of the horses, not Uldrik of Krien with his talent for oratory, and not Thomander of Vardheim with his all his blacksmith skill. _

_ By this time, the leaders were growing anxious with the prospect of war. “If our king is not in Delle, then surely there is no hope for us,” they said. Now, they had all been wary about going to Delle. it was the smallest and poorest of the seven, and they had hoped to find a king amongst one of the other villages. But they were all desperate for a miracle. _

_ When they arrived in Delle, all their hopes were dashed. For in Delle they only found ruins; buildings burnt to the ground, crops and pastures had been demolished, the remains of rotting villagers strewn about the ground where they took their last breath. They had been too late, and the rival viking fleet had already destroyed the village. _

_ With their spirits in ruin and their hearts in tatters, they set out to return to each of their villages, dreading their doom. But when they reached Vardheim, they found the village empty. Not destroyed, but empty and abandoned. They rushed to Krien, and Marvik, and Svolkier, and Holmestad, and found them the exact same as the other villages. The leaders were in a panic, fearing the worst of their homes. _

_ Finally, they reached Arenfjord. Upon arriving, they couldn’t believe their eyes; all the people of the remaining six villages were gathered together in fellowship and high spirits, ready to defend themselves together. Gaspar immediately found the village soothsayer and asked what had happened. The soothsayer smiled and replied, “Last night, a young girl from Delle arrived in search of a new home for herself and her herd of elk. She passed through the other villages in need of help; food, shelter, rest, directions. And along the way, she was able to convince the people to follow her. All the villagers who have arrived have said the same thing; it was the song she used to call her elk to her that enchanted them to follow.” Then he paused. “You’ll have to forgive me, Gaspar. It seems that I have made a mistake in my interpretation of your dream.” _

_ “How so?” Gaspar asked. _

_ “I told you that we would be united under a king,” the soothsayer replied. Then he led the six leaders to the centre of the crowd, where a young girl tended to a herd of elk. “But it appears that the gods have intended to unite us under a queen instead. Solveig, the last of Delle.” _

_ Upon hearing the soothsayer speak to the leaders, Solveig turned away in fear and shame. How could she, a simple peasant girl who came from the outskirts of a poor village that no longer existed, lead an army into battle? Against the viking fleet that pillaged her home and murdered her people, no less? She went to sleep that night troubled and afraid, refusing all offers of a bed and making her bed amongst her elk instead. _

_ But as she slept, one of the villagers who had also overheard the soothsayer was possessed with jealousy. He waited in the shadows throughout the night, biding his time for the perfect moment to strike. Then, when the last of the candles had flickered out, he crept towards Solveig’s sleeping figure, raising his knife above his head. _

_ Solveig suddenly awoke to the angry bugling of her elk. The earth below her began to shake as the herd gathered together and swept her away. Then they rounded together and chased the jealous villager away, trampling him underfoot with a fierce stampede that woke all of Arenfjord. When the dust had cleared, the herd returned to her mewling happily, not a single elk harmed. It was then that Solveig understood how to defeat the vikings. And when the soothsayer arrived to anoint her, she finally found her courage and took on the mantle of Queen. _

_ When the time came to face the vikings, she led the people with courage and spirit, with the six village leaders by her side. When morale grew low, she was able to inspire the people and rouse them to hope again. To fight with every last breath for their people, for their families, for their homes. “This is how we will prevail!” she told the people. “Not with fear and anger, fighting in retribution for all that we have lost. But with hope and purpose, protecting that which still remains.” _

_ And when all the battles had been fought, it was Queen Solveig and the united villages who had claimed victory. Together, from the ruins of the war, they rebuilt the villages into a mighty kingdom that would stand for hundreds of years. And in honour of all they had lost, they renamed the kingdom, Arendelle- _

***

“Did you really just recount the events of your kingdom’s founding?” Iduna interjected.

Agnarr shrugged, grinning. “I  _ have _ been reading the same three history books for the past few weeks, I might as well put it to good use,” he said.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I cannot believe you had me invested in a  _ history lesson _ , of all things,” she said.

“Do I hear you admitting that you liked the story?”

She snorted a sarcastic laugh. “I said I was  _ invested _ , I didn’t say that I liked it.”

He hummed in disagreement and leaned back against the trunk. “Smells an awful lot like denial to me,” he said teasingly.

“No, really,” she insisted. “I thought the ending was rushed. The whole time, you were building up the conflict with the vikings to be this pivotal, climatic part of the story, but you spent most of the story talking about a bunch of men trying to one-up each other. Queen Solveig, the actual hero of the story, doesn’t even get a chance to shine. You could spare a few moments to tell me where each village leader comes from and what strategy they tried to use to rally the people, but Queen Solveig only gets to speak once? Where’s all the detail about her epic deeds in the war that was only vaguely alluded to?” 

For a moment, Agnarr sat there utterly speechless, staring at her as if she had said something outrageous. She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly and he blinked a few times before looking at the sky pensively. “Come to think of it, all the accounts I’ve read about the story do focus more on the village leaders and their exploits,” he said slowly.

She busied herself with wrapping her scarf tighter as she mulled over her next words. It was obvious to her why Agnarr’s history books favoured the village leaders. But she also knew how dramatic boys could get when issues about masculinity were brought up. On the other hand, she also knew how obtuse  _ he _ could be when it came to things as clear as day to her. “I don’t suppose the reason for that has anything to do with the hero being a Queen, rather than a King,” she dared to say, giving him a sidelong glance. She tried to speak in the polite and discreet way that he did sometimes, especially when they first met, in hopes that it would help.

Beside her, she felt him freeze for a moment, before quickly relaxing again. Then, to her surprise, he nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s something that will need to be corrected when we return to Arendelle.”

She had to fight back a laugh. “I suppose that’s the right thing to do,” she replied shrewdly, keeping her features neutral.

“Well, since you didn’t like my story very much, I don’t suppose you have another story? One that’s perhaps a little fairer to all the heroes?” he asked, still as unbothered and obtuse as ever.

Iduna pretended to consider it, struggling to suppress her smirk. A story immediately came to mind at his request, but she wanted to see how long she could tease him before he noticed. “I suppose you’ll have to give me a minute to think about it,” she replied, glancing over at him.

Suddenly, he looked at her sharply, his eyes wide in realisation and shock. At his expression, all the laughter she had been holding back burst out, like a gale of wind rushing in through the open flap of her lavvu. It was the kind of laugh that reverberated throughout her whole body and made her stomach ache. He tried to remain straight-faced at first, but he eventually gave in and joined her. He had never been very good at holding off on his laughter around her. “You are  _ not _ funny,” he choked out between fits of laughter.

The irony of his statement reinvigorated her amusement, and they both burst out into another round of laughter. Soon enough, she was wiping tears from her eyes and was having difficulty breathing, making sputtering noises that were half laughs, half gasps for air. It took a while for the laughter to subside completely; the joke had escalated to the point that merely looking at him would trigger another giggle.

“I have a story,” she said once they both fell silent. “Better than yours.”

“I sure hope you’re not tricking me into my own history lesson,” he said, adjusting his position to face her fully.

She shrugged and gave him a smirk. “Well, you reap what you sow.” Then, before he could protest, she added quickly, “But I swear it’s good! My tribe doesn’t have boring history books and written accounts of past events. Our stories are preserved and passed down from generation to generation, orally through story-telling and our joiks, and visually in various art forms. Unlike you Arendellians, we actually know how to tell a good story, with ‘tell’ being the operative word.”

He pretended to consider it for a moment, but she could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he had already been convinced. “In that case, I don’t think I can say no,” he said.

Iduna smiled and settled into her position. “In the beginning, there was only the Sun…”

***

_ In the beginning, there was only the Sun. And the Sun was lonely, tired of knowing nothing else but herself. In her desire for company, she gave birth to Wind, the spirit of freedom. Wind brought her joy and delight; in its playful movement around its Mother it created space, giving her room to breathe. _

_ But the Sun was lonely still. And so, she gave birth to Water, her second child, the spirit of change. Water inspired imagination and ingenuity within its Mother, and in its ebb and flow beneath Wind, it created time. _

_ Although the Sun already had Wind and Water, she still longed for another child. As a result, Earth, the spirit of substance, was born. Unlike its older siblings, Earth was deeply grounded and unyielding. In its steadfastness, it showed its Mother stability and determination, creating order. _

_ The Sun now had three children, but she still felt incomplete. “One more child,” she decided. “And then all will be well.” So finally, she bore into the world Fire, the last of its kin, the spirit of power. Before it was born, the world was cold and dark. But its warmth and light gave its Mother energy and vitality. _

***

“It is the spirit of life itself,” Agnarr said.

“Yes,” she agreed, giving him a proud smile at the fact that he remembered. “And from Fire burst forth an abundance of life.”

***

_ Birds of all shapes filled the air and fish and sea creatures of every colour populated the water. The earth produced a bounty of trees, and flowers, and bushes, and plants. And from the plants, animals of every kind were born. Together, the Spirits and their own creations lived together in peace and harmony. And the Sun looked down at her kin with great pride and merriment, for she was no longer lonely and the world was perfect. _

_ But the Sun, always one to desire for company, eventually grew dissatisfied with the world. For in a world of perfection, there was no reason for her to be joyful, or to imagine, or be determined, or be full of energy. And so, she created mankind, a mortal species unlike her Spirits who would be born, grow up, reproduce, and return to dust. In her stead, she imbued them with the ability to experience all the gifts her children had given her when she bore them.  _

_ At last, she was content. The humans she had created roamed the world with joy and delight as we explored our home. We were imaginative and ingenuous with using the fruits of her children’s work, making dwellings and tools with our surroundings, hunting the animals of the earth, sea and sky for food. In our determination to survive, we created an order for our stability. And we were always full of energy and vitality, playing with the creatures around us, discovering new places and things to do, procreating and filling the earth. We quickly became the pinnacle of all her creation, her masterpiece which she loved most dearest. _

_ But after seeing the wonders of the Spirits, the great feats of the impossible that the first children of the Sun could do, we began to grow anxious. That anxiety soon turned into fear, and that fear soon turned into hatred. It wasn’t long before we had assembled together as warriors, declaring war on the Four Elemental Spirits. In our terror of the unknown, we sought to conquer that which we did not understand, to crush the Spirits beneath our heel, before we could be conquered ourselves. It was fear of the unknown that almost destroyed us. _

_ The Sun, witnessing all the carnage and bloodshed between the first of her children and her beloved creation, was heartbroken. Unable to leave her place above all creation, she despaired at her helplessness and inability to bring back peace. Her tears fell onto the earth and created a flood strong enough for both the Spirits and the humans to cease their fighting for a moment and feel ashamed for the pain they had brought their Mother. _

_ It was then that the Sun found her solution. “I will bear one more child, a daughter, from a piece of my heart. She will be born in my own likeness, and will descend upon the world as both Spirit and mortal. I will send her to be the bridge between both worlds and to bring back peace. She will be the last of my children before I return to my rest.” _

_ And so, it was done. The Sun mothered the last of her children, a daughter who was both Spirit and mortal, whom she named Akanidi. _

_ To the humans, she taught us the ways of the Spirits, how to communicate with them and reap their wisdom, so that we would no longer be afraid. She warned us that if we ever prevailed over the Spirits, a great curse would befall on us that would imprison us where we stood, so that we would never again experience the full wonders of the world. She entrusted her knowledge all to Lytteren, the first of her followers, and charged him with the duty of defending all creatures of the Sun, our Mother. _

_ To the Spirits, she created Ahtohallan, a sacred place holding knowledge and memory of all things since the Sun’s first birth. It would be found at the border between the end of the world and the beginning of eternity, a place that only the Spirits and herself could find. She warned her eldest kin not to forget the kindness in the hearts of humans, or else their Mother would despair again as she did during the wars. And finally, for its mastery over time, she charged Water with the duty of keeping Ahtohallan safe. _

_ Akanidi lived amongst the people and the Spirits for many years, imparting her wisdom and guidance, defending the Spirits. She gifted us with reindeer on behalf of the Spirits, and she gave the Spirits worldly bodies to experience the full breadth of creation on behalf of the humans, except for the Wind Spirit, who had always preferred the freedom of its original form. And when it was time for her to return to her Mother, humans and Spirits alike were united again under the Sun as brethren and friends. That is why we are called Northuldra; we are people of the Sun. _

***

Iduna tugged her scarf out from around her shoulders and spread it out over her lap for Agnarr to see. She found the symbol that marked the clothes of every person in her clan. “Every Northuldra child receives a scarf at birth with the symbol of our clan. The emblem of the Four Spirits is our tribe’s emblem, regardless of clan,” she explained, her fingers tracing over the runes. “But my family’s symbol is a little bit different, because of this,” she said, pointing to the little four-point star at the centre of the runes. “It is the symbol of the Fifth Spirit, the bridge between the Spirits and the humans. And as long as Akanidi remains with the  _ Mother Sun _ above the cosmos, the burden of maintaining the peace and defending the children of the Sun falls on my family, the Lytteren clan.”

Agnarr looked up at her, newfound awe and admiration in his eyes. “The Lytteren clan?” he echoed. “Like the one in the story?”

“Yes,” she replied. “My family has carried that name for as long as I can remember, and even longer.” She looked up at the lights above them, marvelling again at the sight. “ _ The Path of the Spirits _ ,” she said in her native language. Then she repeated herself in Arendellian so that he could understand. “No one has ever returned to confirm it, but some stories tell us that those lights were created by Akanidi to guide the Spirits to Ahtohallan if they ever got lost.”

He followed her gaze. “The auroras?”

Instantly, her blood ran cold.

Beside her, he didn’t seem to notice. “Back in Arendelle, we call them  _ aurora borealis _ ; when solar wind upsets the protons and electrons in the magnetosphere, those atomic components precipitate down into the thermosphere. The disturbance creates these magnificent light shows we see today,” he said. Then he snickered. “That was the dullest statement I’ve ever made outside a lesson and if you want to mock me for being a bore, I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest,” he said, looking over at her with mirth in his eyes. When she didn’t laugh, his expression became concerned. “Is everything alright?”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, but it was forced. “No, I’m alright, it’s just…” She looked back at the sky, hesitating. If there was one thing she knew about her aurora, it was never to speak of it. The exception was, of course, being expressly instructed by Dorste and the elders to protect the tribe, but it seldom ever came to that. And if there was something the elders needed, they definitely wouldn’t go to a young woman who had just come of age. It had become her most protected secret; not even Sonja or Elssa knew.

She looked back at Agnarr, and almost found herself startled by the raw concern in his features, the way he was listening with his whole body, his eyes so full of patience and something else she didn’t quite recognise. He had been her best friend for almost a year now. She had always held it in the back of her mind that despite how much he meant to her, there had always been others from his life back in Arendelle whom he cared for more deeply, and she had never resented that. But seeing him now, his emotions laid so freely for her to see, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe, she meant as much to him as he did to her. And for some inexplicable reason, she knew that was enough.

“In my tribe, that word— _ aurora _ —means something else,” she said. She hesitated again, a reflex response to talking about it, but she steeled her nerve and went on. “Once every generation, a child in my clan is born with… an extra special connection to the Spirits. One of Akanidi’s last gifts to Lytteren, should the Spirits ever overpower us. The aurora, a call in the form of a melody, that can pacify the Spirits. It is granted to us from Ahtohallan, the source of all memories and magic. But we can never reveal ourselves outright; it’s an extraordinary ability that the wrong people might use to their own advantage. If anyone outside the elders ever found out, it could be really dangerous for us.” She looked over at him, studying his expression. “Promise that you’ll never tell anyone, even if you don’t think it’ll ever matter to them, what I’ve just told you.”

He held her gaze for a few moments before he nodded solemnly. Then he held out his pinky. “I’ll pinky promise it,” he said. When he noticed her looking down at his pinky in confusion, he added, “It’s the most sacred kind of promise. All pinky promises are basically as binding as an oath made in the Palace chapel. You just need to grab my pinky with yours.”

She giggled at that, but nevertheless took his pinky. “You Arendellians are so weird,” she said.

“But it works!” he said, smiling. “Not one of the pinky promises that I’ve made have been broken.”

She returned his smile and let go of his pinky. “I think that’s more of a reflection on you than the actual method,” she said, her chest feeling oddly warm.

For a moment, neither of them said anything. His smile widened incrementally, for some reason, her stomach swooped in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Then he blinked a few times, as if he had just realised something, and looked away quickly, his cheeks taking on that strange feverish hue. “When you were talking about the aurora—the magic call thing—earlier, you said ‘we’,” he said. Iduna looked away and pursed her lips, but she could feel his gaze back on her. The unspoken question lingered in the space between them.

Finally, she swallowed down her nerves and nodded slowly. “There are three in my family at the moment. And one of those Auroras is me.”

It was out. The secret that she had learned to safeguard and protect as easily as breathing for the better part of her life. And no sooner had the forbidden words left her mouth when she felt the last of her defenses crumble. It was as if a dam had suddenly burst open inside her, and every fear and ugly thought that she had kept hidden away for the past few months came rushing out.

“I didn’t realise how different everything would be when I came of age. I mean, it was always there, some idea of that reality, somewhere in the back of my mind, but I refused to think about it. I just wanted to enjoy the ride, go along for the adventure, and not  _ think _ about it. And yeah, the first weeks after the ceremony when I still had the luxury of being in denial, everything was fine. I could still go out and chase the wild rabbits in the spring, or play with my cousins amongst my papa’s reindeer, or run out into the forest before supper with the Wind Spirit. But I couldn’t keep running away from it forever. At some point, you’re left with no other choice but to go out and face it.”

She remembered the day she had been summoned to Uncle Ivaar’s lavvu after being particularly difficult in one of Jovsset’s lessons. The exact words they had said were now a mystery to her, but the fury in their voices, the biting disappointment in her grandmama’s expression were permanently etched into memory. And, above all, it was the stinging feeling of guilt that had followed her around for weeks that had affected her the most.

“For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be afraid,  _ truly _ afraid, of failure,” she said quietly. “To feel so  _ alone _ and ashamed. And—despite it not lasting very long—to feel so completely hopeless of things getting better. As a kid, I believed I could do anything, I was at the top of my own world. Imagine going from all that freedom and excitement, to feeling small and powerless.”

She looked away determinedly, fiddling with the edge of her scarf. Those few weeks had been the most difficult thing she had ever faced. “I got tired of feeling sad all the time eventually, so I learned how to get on with what needed to be done. I tried to be on time for my lessons, I took on the extra chores my parents had assigned to me without complaint, I stopped trying to stretch out my play time with the Wind Spirit. And at some point, I even began to appreciate all that I had been learning, and started looking forward to my lessons.” She briefly thought about her most recent lessons; her growing comfort in the meditation sessions, her newfound ability to hear the Spirits. But no sooner had she gotten used to her new routine when her grandmama had summoned her privately out of the blue. It was the first time she had spoken to Iduna about her aurora in years, but that was only the least of it. 

“I turn fourteen next week, right after the dam’s big unveiling. In another year, I’m going to have to move away from everyone and live in the Spirit Nexuses; extra spiritual training, because I’m an Aurora. When I come back, I’ll be expected to be more attuned to the Spirits than all my other cousins. The elders might even start sending me out to do more; supervise the coming of age ceremony for the next batch of children, lead the morning rituals in honour of the Sun, teach the initiates all about the Lytteren mysteries—it’s all happening too quickly.”

When her grandmama had finally been dismissed, there was no shaking the sense that she had entered the beginning of an end.

She curled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs tightly. Her heart was racing as if she had just spent an afternoon running around the forest. It was the most she had ever admitted about everything she feared, and she was already beginning to feel the toll of having indulged so much in her emotions weighing down on her.

“I’m happy as I am. And I know that I can’t stop these things from happening, and I know that there are people relying on me to grow up and be who I need to be, but that doesn’t mean that I’m  _ ready _ for it all.”

She met Agnarr’s gaze again, no longer having the energy or will to put up any semblance of control, and finally gave voice to the demon that had haunted her for months.

“So much has already changed. I don’t want things to keep changing.”

His eyes were inscrutable as he held her gaze. Iduna had never felt more exposed as she did at that moment.

Then, he sighed deeply and leaned back against the tree. “I... I can’t pretend I know what you’re going through,” he said, almost in defeat. Then he hesitated again, his eyebrows furrowed together in deep thought. “B-But I do know something about change, and being thrown into something you feel like you’re not ready for. To have to move on to the next thing when you’ve barely even processed the last thing, to be caught up in the whirlwind of it all wishing for just a moment to  _ breathe _ , to wonder if things will ever just settle down and  _ stop _ —it’s not easy.” 

Iduna looked over at him, surprised at how well he could express how she was feeling. She shook her head in agreement. “No, it’s not,” she replied sombrely.

His expression became one of deep anguish as he mulled over the next thought that had crossed his mind, and he glanced over at her. Then he sighed, as if bracing himself, and shifted around to look at her properly. “When I was eleven, a great plague swept over Arendelle. It was the same sickness that took my mother when I was just a baby, and it almost took my father too. I don’t remember much of it—my father had me locked away for most of it—but the plague itself isn’t the important part. It’s what came after, that changed everything.

“As soon as he had recovered, my father became relentless with my studies and preparation for the Crown. Apparently, his near death was a major wake up call for him, and our duty for the kingdom; my mother passed away shortly after I was born, so I have no siblings in line for the throne should, God forbid, anything happen to me. Suddenly, I was spending practically all my waking hours with various tutors, experts, wise men and women, on advanced curriculums for various things; languages, law, economics, war and security—anything and everything it takes to run a kingdom.”

His features darkened and he looked away. “It was hell,” he said quietly. “I tried as hard as I could—I knew how important it was for me to do well—but no matter how hard I worked, how desperately I wanted to be every bit the perfect prince as my father was as king, nothing I did seemed to work. I just kept failing and failing, time and time and time again.”

She remembered all the times she had seen him in passing around the campsite following after King Runeard, and the forlorn expression on his features when he thought nobody was looking. They had never spoken to each other about their respective duties before, but she knew that whatever work he was responsible over took its toll on him in subtle ways; the telltale bags under his eyes, the trained stiffness of his posture when he stood next to his father, the quiet desperation that only ever entered his features whenever their conversations breached his life in the Palace. He never once complained about any of it though, taking everything he was given in stride. It was one of the things she really admired about him. She shuffled closer, listening in anticipation.

“How did you get over all of that?” she asked.

To her surprise, he let out a soft chuckle. “Honestly? There’s still plenty of things I fail at. I’m still a great distance from being that perfect prince my father expects out of me. And, if I’m being realistic, I don’t know if I’ll ever get there.”

A beat of silence passed. “Things only really got intense over the past few years, but I’ve been preparing for the Crown my whole life. I’m not-” He faltered. “Things… don’t come naturally to me. I need to work hard to be good at those skills that a kingdom needs of their ruler.” Then his eyes found hers again, with a newfound intensity that was almost startling. “But you, you’ve only been doing this for just under a year, and not only are you already well adjusted to it, but you’re  _ excelling _ in what you do.”

She blinked in surprise. “Excelling?” she echoed.

“Yes,” he replied steadily. “I overheard your uncle talking to some of the other elders during a recess last week; how quickly you’ve progressed ever since you started paying attention in class, how your connection to the Wind Spirit is the strongest they’ve ever seen from a first time pupil, how intuitive you are when it comes to listening to the Spirits. He was so impressed with how easily you were picking everything up.” He paused and looked away thoughtfully. “Well, at least that’s the gist of what he said. I only started learning Northuldrian a few weeks ago, most of it was still fuzzy to me.”

Warmth blossomed in her chest. “You’re learning Northuldrian?”

“My father was surprisingly on board with it,” he said. Then his expression became serious again. “Change isn’t something to be afraid of. In fact, sometimes it’s something we need. Our people needed to change in order to break free of centuries of hatred and fear and violence. Over the past few months, I needed to change so I could rid myself of that divisive ignorance that had long prevailed over Arendellian ways of understanding the Northuldra. And you,” he said, his voice softening. “If you hadn’t decided to give me—a stuck up prince from a kingdom that has tormented your people for centuries—a chance, I would’ve never become friends with the smartest, bravest, most annoying and incredible person I’ve ever met.”

Then he shifted closer, his gaze searching hers. “I know you don’t feel like you’re ready for this. And I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy, or worth it, to give up your life as is. But I do know that  _ you _ are strong enough to handle it. You don’t have to do it alone, either. You’ll have all your elders, and your family, and your cousins, and-” He looked away for a moment, before his gaze returned to hers shyly. “And me, if you’ll have me.”

She allowed her hopes to rise ever so slightly. “But you won’t have a reason to come back here after the dam’s finished,” she said carefully.

His gaze softened, and, not for the first time, she realised just how much he cared about her. “Yes, I do.”

Something in the air had shifted. Suddenly, Iduna was hyper aware of the way his blonde hair—so unlike anything else in her tribe—fell in an uncharacteristically dishevelled pile over his forehead, the flecks of light from the sky above in his green eyes, the curve of his mouth under his nose. In that moment, she got a glimpse of the man he would become; tall and handsome and determined, although she couldn’t imagine that the gentle patience would ever leave his eyes. Her heart was so full with a new and exhilarating kind of happiness, that she thought she might explode if she didn’t do something. Before she could think any more of it, she reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his. It was one of the most intimate gestures to her people, but he didn’t need to know that. He followed the movement with his eyes before looking up at her in shock, his cheeks becoming rosy. She couldn’t help smiling. “Thank you, Agnarr,” she all but whispered.

Iduna wasn’t below denying herself; she knew exactly what all these feelings meant. But she had also grown exceptionally skilled in the art of hiding herself away, putting up a front to protect her truths, taking calculated risks only when she deemed it safe. This one would just be another addition to her repertoire of secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh this is one of my favourite chapters in the whole story, and the one i have been DYING to get out!! i feel like writing this chapter (and the second part which I'll post next week, god i'm so excited for you guys to read that one too!!) was the turning point in my process; these next few chapters made me realise what the essence of this story and these characters are. in hindsight there's a quite a few things i could have written better, but there's also so many things in here that i'm super proud of. man, i really hope you guys liked reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :))
> 
> as always, let me know what you guys thought in the comments!! this chapter and the next one are my babies in this story, but also my biggest Area Of ConcernTM so if you kinda wanna comment but can't decide on which chapter, i strongly urge this one and/or the next one :))
> 
> check out my tumblr @hungryhungryhippo3!!


	5. the path of the spirits (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her eyes were startlingly intense. “What do you want, Prince Ribbon Boy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert bernie sanders meme] i am once again thanking you guys for all your kudos, comments, or even just giving my story a chance and reading it 💕💕💕 you guys had me struggling to contain my squeals of delight whilst i was reading your comments jhshskhj 😌 i feel like i've said this before but i'll say it again, to hear that you guys, who've literally carried this fandom on your backs, are actually?? enjoying my story?? man it's such an honour ahhhh

It was the first time she had addressed him by his name. Not the nicknames that he had grown all too familiar with, or his proper titles that she would sometimes use in jest. But his true name, stripped of all embellishment and grandeur, or humour and pretense. She had dropped all of that, and called to the part of him she had never once ventured towards before. That was how Agnarr knew that, at least in that moment, something had changed.

Then, before he could wrap his head around what was different, she pulled her hand out of his and shifted away. He immediately wanted to chase after her and replace the space she had created, before his senses caught up to him. Instead, he frowned and settled himself back against the tree trunk, with half a mind to properly wonder why he had felt the need to do that, hoping Iduna hadn’t noticed.

“I miss hanging out like this,” she said after a moment, her voice returning to normal. The spell was broken. Agnarr wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or mildly upset. “We haven’t properly spoken since the whole Fire Spirit incident.”

He glanced over at her. “Yeah, me too,” he said sadly. “Things have gotten busier on Arendelle’s end with the ceremony being so close, as I’m sure you can imagine. My father’s become quite… generous with allocating tasks for me as of late.” Then he hesitated. “But it’s not just that.”

He remembered the steely edge to his father’s eyes when he had showed up charred and in disarray after he had disappeared for hours. He had been dismissed immediately to a separate tent, waiting until nightfall for the end of the meeting like a prisoner on death row. And when the hour of reckoning had finally arrived, not even Lt. Matthias, who had always done his best to intercede for him whenever the King felt it necessary to discipline his son, could soften his sentence.

Agnarr steeled himself. “When Lt. Matthias brought me back to the settlement after my run-in with the Fire Spirit, he was forced to explain everything. Including the fact that I’ve been ‘gallivanting through the Forest with a Northuldra girl’ to occupy myself during meetings.” That caught Iduna’s attention. She looked at him worriedly, and he sighed. “He forbade me from being friends with you.”

There was a beat of silence. “Oh,” she said. He hummed mournfully in agreement, and another beat of silence passed. Then she shifted a little awkwardly in her place. “Do you… want me to go?”

His gaze shot to her immediately, astounded. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said fiercely. He had just spent the past two months if not bored out of his mind, then walking on eggshells around his father. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t doing before, but without Iduna, it had become far more difficult to get through these long trips to the Forest. 

He looked down at his lap anxiously and sighed in defeat. There was nothing he could do. Father’s word was final. “But I think you should. My father doesn’t want me around you anymore,” he said sombrely.

For a moment, Iduna said nothing. But just when he had been convinced that she would get up and leave, she spoke again. “I didn’t ask what your father wanted.” Agnarr looked at her tentatively as she turned to face him properly. Her eyes were startlingly intense. “What do  _ you _ want, Prince Ribbon Boy?”

He knew his answer straight away. Of course he did. But he had grown so accustomed to deferring his choices, to making his decisions based on the lessons his father had taught him, that he instinctively balked at a situation where he was asked to do something for himself. He hadn’t always understood Father’s decisive commands and unyielding philosophy, but there had never been any reason to go against it. And although the sensation of being alone, for once, was completely foreign, he found that it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“I want you to stay,” he finally said.

She smiled, and his heart might have skipped a beat. “That’s a relief. After everything I’ve told you tonight, that would’ve been a really awkward note to end on,” she said.

He chuckled and looked at her, astonished by her ability to smooth over the rising tension. She leaned back against the tree, shooting him furtive glances as they settled into another stretch of silence.

He had always yielded to Father’s commands, trusting in his wisdom and expertise. Father had never failed to remind him just how young he was whenever he acted out, how little he knew or understood about the world, how unsuited he was to be making big decisions on his own. But recently, he felt more conflicted than ever before. He had found himself disagreeing with Father before, but Father had always found a way to convince him otherwise and ease his concerns. As he learned more and more about the world over the past few months, the lessons and reasoning that had once formed the crux of his opinions were quickly unravelled, undermined. And all the while, he had held it within himself, afraid of giving voice to his grievances.

“I’ve never really done that before,” he said thoughtfully after a moment.

In his periphery, he saw Iduna look at him curiously. “Done what?”

“Not do something my father wanted,” he replied. Then he frowned in confusion. “Or do something my father didn’t want.” His frown deepened. “Disobeyed my father’s wishes—I’ve never really disobeyed my father’s wishes before.”

Although her expression remained mostly neutral, a hint of distress entered her eyes. She looked at him with carefully guarded features, as if mulling over her next words. “This might be a difficult question to unpack, but why not?” she finally asked.

He snorted a laugh and propped a knee up to rest his hand on. “Well, for starters, he’s the King,” he said. “You don’t go against the King’s orders and expect to come out unscathed.”

Iduna scoffed. “Well,  _ duh _ . But I meant more like your—and please don’t take this the wrong way… hesitancy… about him,” she said, attentively studying his expression.

He sat up from the tree and turned towards her, confused. “My  _ hesitancy _ about him?” he echoed.

She shifted a little awkwardly in her place. “Well, yeah,” she said. “Sometimes when he comes up in conversation, you close up and change tack. And whenever you do talk about him, it’s always with this distant veneration; it’s like you’re talking about your King rather than your father.”

“Well, he  _ is _ my King,” Agnarr replied, frowning. He had always been encouraged to hold his father in that way. But something in the way she had said it, the apprehension in her tone, made him worry that there was something amiss with that. Eager to smooth over the discomfort and confusion that had begun to rise within him, he quickly added, “And my father—he’s both. He… he knows what he’s doing. And he’s good at what he does. He’s always been after what’s best, for both the kingdom and for me.” He leaned back against the tree, his frown deepening. “And, and even if I… don’t always understand…  _ why _ he wants what he wants, I-I trust his judgement.”

He should’ve stopped there. It was the truth; incontestable ground. Father only dealt with truths and facts, calling things out as he saw them and moving forward based on what had been proven.  _ As soon as you start questioning and bringing in conditionalities _ , Father had warned,  _ you begin to flounder. You undermine the truth and you’ll never settle on an answer. _

But Agnarr had always found it difficult to simply settle on facts alone. He was curious by nature; he loved learning new things, and he believed there was wisdom to be gleaned from even the most unconventional places. And unlike many of the courtiers in Arendelle, he wasn’t afraid of embracing the unknown.

He should’ve stopped there. That was the smart and safe thing to do. But now that they had breached the subject, a big part of him wanted to delve deeper, explore this hidden thing that he had been trained to ignore, and properly express himself.

“So I’ve always obeyed him,” he said quietly. “Because everything that he’s doing, every decision he’s made, has always been in my best interest. And it’s bad enough that I can’t seem to understand why he thinks the way he does, or acts how he is, or believes what he believes… what more if I let him know?” Then he barked out a sardonic laugh. “A prince that can barely comprehend the lessons his father has instilled in him all his life; what kind of heir does that make me? What kind of  _ son _ does that make me? I’ve come so far, and he’s started trusting me with more responsibility, and I-” He choked on his words and looked away abruptly, refusing to let himself unravel like this so visibly.

_ Conceal, don’t feel. _ It was the mantra he returned to more than any other throughout his life. Father had always told him that it was their duty, as ruler and future ruler of Arendelle, to be able to surpass the weaknesses of ordinary people. The King was more than just his people’s leader and chief protector; he was an ideal. He represented the exalted, the unyielding, the infallible. There was no room for humanity.

But one could only go so far in denying themselves of their nature before he had to break. Even though Agnarr wasn’t even King yet, he was already on the verge of fracturing under the weight of the Crown. Years of living in his father’s shadow, holding onto hope for an opportunity to prove himself, had taken its toll. And now that he had let himself linger too long at a blemish on his facade, look too closely at a crack on the surface, he realised that the crack was really a gaping schism that had been widening all these years. By nature, Agnarr was a boy with a beating heart.

He sighed shakily, and let himself go. “I just want him to be proud of me.”

No sooner had Agnarr spoken those words had he recognised it as his truth.

Truth wasn’t always the way Father had defined it; facts and logic. It could also be the lingering feeling in the depths of a person, yet never completely forgotten, underlying his motivations and beliefs from a hidden place. Untouched by the ebb and flow of his ever changing world, unreachable to all, including himself. Until, perhaps, the moment he found the strength to reach into those depths and pull back the veil, no matter what may lie in wait for him on the other side. 

He glanced at Iduna, taking in her conflicted expression, and sighed, gathering his wits about him again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all that on you, I should’ve asked first if it was okay-”

“It’s okay.” She touched his shoulder reassuringly and turned to face him properly. Her eyes were filled with concern. “If anything,  _ I _ should be the one apologising for bringing it up, but-” He looked at her anxiously when she hesitated. Then she finished, “It sounded like you’ve wanted to say that for a while.”

His gaze drifted away as he considered it. “Yes,” he said after a moment of silence. “I think I have.”

Some part of him had foreseen that the conversation would take an oddly intimate turn. He had grown up believing that being so openly  _ affected _ by something was a sign of weakness, unbecoming not only of a future leader, but of a man. But strangely enough, underneath the reflex of shame and fear, he realised he didn’t mind. There was something liberating about it; of having spoken his mind and being heard, of letting down his guard and being seen for who he was.

“Can I say something?” he heard Iduna say. He looked back at her and nodded ever so slightly. She looked away for a moment and frowned, as if considering her next words. Then she sighed in resignation, a small smile quirking at her lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re smart, Prince Ribbon Boy. Maybe not in the way that you want to, but if you count up all the things that you’ve learned, everything that you’ve been working towards over your whole life, there’s a lot of things that you know. Things that you know because of your openness to new things and your determination to improve. You have no problem owning up to your mistakes when you’re called out—and I know I’ve called you out plenty—and you will keep working at something until you get better.” She snorted a laugh. “I almost regretted showing you how to play with the Wind Spirit all those months ago because you  _ would not stop _ until got the hang of it-”

Agnarr couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory; he was sure he’d given Lt. Matthias at least ten mini heart-attacks that afternoon and he had bruises for weeks, but he wouldn’t have done it any other way. She smiled at him when he laughed, and his stomach swooped again.

“Do  _ not _ let this get to your head,” she warned, her eyes sparkling playfully.

He held up his hands placatingly. “Never,” he replied with a small grin.

She rolled her eyes in response. “ _ The point I’m trying to make _ ,” she said, sobering up again. “Is that if you’re having difficulty understanding why your father thinks or acts or believes a certain way, it’s definitely not because you’re incapable of doing so.”

He looked over at her, unconvinced. “Then what is it? What else would you call it when, despite something being explained to you multiple times, you still can’t find it within yourself to accept it as the right thing?” he said bitterly.

She held his gaze wordlessly for a moment. For once, her eyes were unreadable. Then, as if it were as plain as day, she said, “Well, I think you disagree with him.”

Instantly, his blood ran cold.

“No.” Agnarr shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t. E-Everything Father stands for is for the good of the many, for the good of Arendelle, and if-if I don’t agree with him then that makes me-”

“Your own person?” Iduna offered. “With your own mind, and voice, and way of looking at things?”

But, still reeling from his earlier revelation, he barely heard what she had said. He had never outright disagreed with Father before. And more importantly, he was terrified at what the implications were. His father was a great king, who had brought much prosperity and new opportunities to Arendelle in his reign. He was beloved by the people for his leadership and unwavering strength, stemming from an even deeper and more rigorous set of beliefs. Agnarr had always tried to emulate the example his father laid down. That’s why he would far prefer to continue striving to understand Father’s ways of thinking than to outright accept that he disagreed. Because to diverge from that surely meant that there was something wrong, something  _ failed _ within him.

“Hey.” At the sound of her voice, he turned and faced her. Something in his expression must’ve worried her because the next thing he knew, she was shifting closer, holding his gaze with fierce compassion. “ _ It is okay  _ to have your own thoughts and opinions. One of the reasons we have our coming of age at thirteen here in Forest is because this is the time we question and explore the world more than ever before. We’re old enough to start going off on our own and making our own observations, judgements and conclusions. Sometimes the things that we’ll find will only affirm what we already know and believe. Other times, it won’t.” 

_ No _ , he agreed despairingly, looking down at his lap. Almost immediately, she touched his shoulder again and found his gaze. “But at the same time, the Northuldra wouldn’t have lasted as long as we have if we weren’t open to different views and ways of thinking. After all, we’re sharing this Forest with a bunch of highly unpredictable Spirits,” she continued steadily.

He raised his head to look at her properly. Her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles when he did. “You aren’t a bad heir or son for disagreeing with your father; after all, you obviously admire and respect him enough to care about what he thinks. How can you be a bad son for wanting him to be proud of you?” she said, her tone imploring him to listen. “But at some point, you’re going to have to stop relying on him to do your thinking for you. One day, you’re going to go out into the world and make those calls for yourself.”

He thought about the past few months with the Northuldra, the cause of all of his latest grievances. Father was right about the need to put an end to the bloodshed between Arendelle and their northern neighbours, and building a peace instead. But in spite of all his talk about peace and openness, he still maintained the slightest air of skepticism and mistrust towards them. He had yet to allow any of the Northuldra leaders into Arendelle, despite their continued willingness to host the delegation in the Forest. Although he spoke about progress and friendly relations to the people in his addresses, he never actively discouraged the racist language some of his Councillors spoke about the Northuldra back in the Palace. And when he found out that Agnarr had grown close to a Northuldra girl, he grew angry and immediately forbade him from being friends with her.

For the past few months, Agnarr had struggled against himself with these private objections, only trusting Lt. Matthias with his thoughts. He knew he might’ve gone insane if he held it all within himself, although he never stopped trying to reconcile himself to Father’s point of view. But in light of everything Iduna had said, everything he had been suppressing finally revealing itself, he suddenly realised that those struggles were hopeless. He would never find it within himself to hold that same cautious reservation towards the Northuldra that Father held. He had tried to fake it, but it almost drove away his best friend and one of the most important people to him.

_ One of the most important people to me. _

He looked at her again with his newfound revelation, his heart beating faster.

“King Runeard is a great king. My uncle tells me he’s charismatic and friendly, yet practical and decisive; rather than sending an army after us for misunderstanding Arendelle’s laws as all his predecessors did before him, he was the first ruler to reach out to my people and build peace. But Agnarr, you’re honourable and reliable; you fulfil your duties because you know that if you don’t, other people will have to suffer. You’re open-minded and humble enough to not only acknowledge your mistakes, but work to improve yourself. And you’re kind.” Her gaze softened, and the beating pace of his heart increased. “In spite of everything you were raised to be, you’re still so kind. When the time comes, you’ll be a great king too.”

It was remarkable, her ability to say exactly the right thing whenever he was feeling hopeless. They had known each other for just under a year, and yet, she seemed to understand him better than any other person in his life. She knew him better than his school friends back in Arendelle, or Father, or even Lt. Matthias. She had become his best friend and closest confidante, the person he most looked forward to seeing. Never before had he been so in sync and intimately connected with another person. In fact, everything he felt about her was entirely unfamiliar in an exciting way, so much so that he didn’t even know what to call it. All he knew was that he wanted to hold on to this thing for as long as he could.

He hadn’t noticed they had fallen into some sort of trance until she looked away and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but he could’ve sworn that her cheeks were darker than before. She looked back towards the sky and groaned, leaning back against the tree. “Spirits, Agnarr. the next time you wanna drag me into a heart-to-heart in the middle of the night, you could at least warn me,” she grumbled, although there was a playful lilt in her tone.

Agnarr fought to keep the smile off his face as he feigned being affronted. “I dragged you into this? If I recall correctly, you were the one who set us on this trainwreck. I was perfectly content with listening to your story about the Spirits—even after you cut me off, might I add.”

She snorted a laugh to herself and then looked back at him, her eyes filled with an inexplicable fondness. And not for the first time that night, his heart skipped a beat. “What was the end of it?” she asked softly.

He raised an eyebrow. “The end of what?”

“Your story.” She turned her body again until her shoulder was propped up against the tree.

He followed suit, turning to face her completely. “Oh,” he said plainly. “Well, I was essentially at the end when you cut me off, there isn’t really much more to it.”

She scoffed and booed at him. He rolled his eyes, but failed to keep the grin off of his face. “That ending was terrible,” she said. “Surely, you can’t come up with something better?”

“Everything that follows isn’t quite as entertaining, unless you’re interested in court politics and legislative history,” he replied. He let out a small chuckle when she made a face of distaste. Then, all of a sudden, the memory of a conversation from years ago came to him, a passing conversation he had with a visiting delegate from Arendelle’s closest trading partner. “Actually, I just remembered something,” he said.

Iduna perked up immediately. “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s not as historically accurate as the rest of the story; it leans closer to myth and legend-”

“Yeah, yeah, get on with it,” she interrupted, thinly veiled curiosity in her features.

He smiled at her eagerness. “Alright,” he said. “It is said that after the final battle between Queen Solveig and the seven villages, and the rival viking fleet, the gods rejoiced and decided to reward them; some compensation for all they had lost. At the dawn of the next day, the people found these beautiful golden flowers all over the land. These flowers were believed to be drops of sunlight that had fallen onto the earth because they had the magical ability to heal their sick and wounded and repair the city. Queen Solveig used all of these flowers to rebuild Arendelle as a kingdom, but the Coronians—our closest trading partners—believe that there’s still one more left out there. That’s why, apparently, we have a golden flower in the centre of our crest; Arendelle was founded on these magic sunlight flowers.” A small smile quirked at his lips. “How’s that for an ending?”

Instead of replying with some quick-witted comment like he was expecting, she only stared at him wordlessly, her eyes wide. She mumbled something in Northuldrian under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked.

He watched as her eyes refocused on him. “People of the Sun,” she said in realisation. “That’s what the Northuldra call ourselves, but…” Her expression seemed to brighten excitedly. “So is Arendelle. People of the Sun, I mean.” She held his gaze wordlessly for a moment. “I guess our people have more in common than we thought.”

He had half a heart to remind her that it was just a myth; it had neither the historic reliability of the earlier parts of his story, nor the sacrosanctity of the Northuldrian creation story. But seeing the excitement and unfettered joy in her eyes was enough to convince him against it. If it meant something to her, then there was no reason for him to rain on her parade. 

So instead, he simply held her gaze, deciding to commit every detail of her expression to memory; the incandescent joy in her eyes, the radiance of her smile under the northern lights. Sitting there with her late in the night, his heart was full with everything that had just unfolded. He would store this memory away like a photograph in one of the crevices of his mind, a bright spot amongst the lull of his everyday life, and take it out again to remind himself of a moment, seemingly suspended in time, when he was incandescently happy.

***

When Iduna woke for the second time that night, the stirring that roused her was not so inexplicable. “ _ Iduna… _ Iduna!” Sonja’s voice broke through her haze of unconsciousness, and she registered being roughly shaken awake. She groaned in annoyance at the sound of her sister and determinedly turned away, pulling her blankets over her shoulders. As the lull of sleep began to pull her back under, she heard a frustrated growl from behind her. Then, without warning, coldness swept over her entire body as her blanket was pulled from above her.

“Hey!” she protested, sitting up and wide awake. Not from the cold, but out of annoyance from being woken so forcefully. She fixed her sister with a glare.

But Sonja only returned her gaze steelily and put her hand on her hip in the way she did whenever she wanted to boss Iduna around. “Get up and help us pack. We’re moving,” she ordered, tossing Iduna back her blanket. 

For a second, Iduna contemplated setting the blanket back over her and going back to sleep if only to get back at Sonja for waking her up so abruptly, when suddenly, the ground lurched and Iduna was slammed back onto her back. She quickly scrambled up and looked at her sister anxiously. “What was that?”

“An earthquake,” came Elssa’s voice from the other side of the room. She was already fully dressed, and was packing up the tools they used for cutting up the game their hunters brought home.

Iduna followed after her and quickly got dressed, throwing her scarf over her shoulders for the second time that night. “But we don’t usually move when there’s an earthquake,” she said, rolling up their bed furs.

“This is the biggest earthquake we have ever seen,” Sonja chimed in. “Dorste called an emergency meeting with all the elders just a few minutes ago, and he’s decided we need to move again.”

Panic flared up within Iduna and she whirled around to face her. “We’re moving? What about the Arendellians? Are we just going to leave them behind?”

Sonja rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Calm down, your Prince Charming will be okay, Dorste and some of the elders are on their way to wake them up as we speak,” she replied, smirking at Elssa when Iduna balked.

Iduna turned back to the bed furs, determinedly keeping her face (rapidly heating) hidden. They had teased her in the exact same way when they had first found out about Agnarr, but she never let it get to her. They always found a way to tease each other about small crushes whenever the others discovered it, it was just an annoying sister thing. But after everything that happened earlier that night, the jest hit a little too close to home. “He’s not  _ my _ anything,” she mumbled back, securing the furs with a bit of extra twine.

The ground trembled again, and Iduna barely had time to find something to hold on to. A woman cried out in a mixture of surprise and fear just outside their lavvu, before there was a loud thud. The three of them exchanged looks before Sonja rushed outside, returning moments later with Yelana, a young woman who was well respected in the tribe for her wisdom and hunting ability, who was panting like she was out of breath and rubbing her arm. “…I’m fine, Sonja,” she huffed out as she was led in. Then she looked at all three women, her eyes focused and determined. “Where’s Elssa?” she asked. Elssa stepped forward when Yelana quickly added, “Your grandmama, I mean.”

“She should be in the second lavvu to the right from us—Yelana, what’s going on?” Sonja asked, her cool and collected expression from earlier now replaced with panic.

Yelana was already striding out the exit. “Dorste needs her right now, but don’t worry about it! Just focus on packing up.” Without another moment to waste, she disappeared back outside, and the three sisters resumed their packing in silence.

First the Fire Spirit lashing out against Agnarr, then the Wind Spirit earlier that night, and now the biggest earthquake they had ever seen. Iduna had her suspicions as to what was going on for a while, but she never entertained those thoughts too much. She was afraid of what it would mean if she was right. But when all the signs were presenting themselves right before her eyes, there was no denying the truth any longer.

The Spirits were restless. And something needed to be done immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> on a quick, slightly unrelated note, i've started classes again and my schedule has suddenly gotten intense, so my usual update schedule might get a little inconsistent. hopefully not too much, i don't wanna be late by more than a few days, but i've had this chapter sitting in an open tab since the weekend and it literally took me three whole days to get to this point 😅
> 
> anyways, that wraps up this 2-parter!! like i said last week, these two chapters were the Turning Point in my process where things sort of clicked into place for me. i have my own thoughts on this part of the story, but i'd love to hear from you guys too!!
> 
> check me out on tumblr @hungryhungryhippo3 <33


	6. a gift of peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Spirits were created out of eternity, and they can’t die or be killed. But a Spirit going silent is practically the same thing. It throws everything off balance, the Forest would be in chaos."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is just past midnight in my timezone and i'm super tired but i also really wanna get this chapter out!! with that being said, i've only done extremely minor edits through this chapter just to make sure things read well (and even then i might've missed some things) so apologies in advance if you catch some mistakes/weird sentence structures 😅
> 
> of course, thank you again to you guys, the incredible fandom and awesome readers for all your support for this fic!!

There was a dull ache behind his eyes, the kind he got whenever he had stayed up too late reading in the library, but Agnarr was nevertheless wide awake. He paced aimlessly behind the Arendellian camp in an attempt to settle his nerves, but so far he wasn’t having any luck. Around him, the rest of the High Council and some servants, as well as the family members of the construction workers and engineers, were wandering about, finalising preparations for the ceremony, catching up with beloved family members who had been away for months, helping the servants take down the tents.

It was the day of the unveiling ceremony.

The unveiling ceremony and the grand commissioning of the dam was the culmination of all their peace-building efforts, the day that would cement their position as allies. He should be relieved; the hardest part was over, and all that was left was this formality. Peace was a project that would constantly need work, but it would come easier after today. Many Arendellians had already volunteered to resettle in the Forest to help maintain the dam, and the Northuldra were due to finally visit the kingdom in the upcoming week. Leaders from both sides would be signing treaties tomorrow, and the High Council had already begun drafting some anti-discriminatory bills. He was even glad to see some excitement from a few of the newcomers on their journey back into the Forest this morning.

Still, he couldn’t shake the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. There was so much that could go wrong. Although all of the Councillors that were part of the original delegation had warmed up to the Northuldra, there were a few traditionalists who were present today. And many of the friends and family members that had been invited to the festivities were members of the general public, inexperienced in the intricacies of diplomacy. The popular sentiment amongst the people remained to be one of suspicious reservation, and there was no way to know for sure, in an informal setting, how each person would respond to such a new and unfamiliar environment.

And, on top of, Father had insisted on bringing practically the entirety of the Crown Guard.

_ “It’s just a precaution,” _ he had told Agnarr.  _ “The weather has been quite unpredictable lately, and if we’re faced with another shock like the earthquake last week, our soldiers are more than equipped to help everyone evacuate safely.” _

It was a diplomatic answer. Carefully crafted and contrived. Agnarr didn’t believe a word of it. A few weeks ago, he might have; he would’ve painstakingly struggled for a way to rationalise it and make sense of Father’s decision. And if that failed, he would’ve internalised it silently, blaming himself for his weakness. But as of late, he had been working on eliminating that reflex of pushing down his dissenting thoughts. It was still an odd feeling, to freely indulge himself and develop opinions that were so drastically different from Father’s, but there was a liberty in it that he hadn’t experienced before.

Still, giving voice to those thoughts was something new entirely. Especially when he was alone in his opinions.

“Prince Agnarr?”

He stopped pacing and turned around to face Lt. Matthias. The lieutenant regarded him wordlessly for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed deep in concern. “I know that look. What’s wrong?” he asked, approaching him.

“I...” He held back, skeptical about sharing his thoughts. He had only opened up to Lt. Matthias once before, after the second time he had seen Iduna. He had been open and understanding then, but there was no telling how he would react this time. Especially when part of the reason he was so worked up in the first place inadvertently involved the lieutenant.

Almost as if he could read his thoughts, Lt. Matthias put his hand on his shoulder. The firm weight of it was oddly comforting, immediately calling his attention and easing the nerves in his stomach. “You can talk to me about anything,” he said gently.

Agnarr had known him for his entire life. He had seen Lt. Matthias in action, warding off intruders who had snuck into the Palace, or the occasional assassin who had managed to get through their defenses. He had always known the lieutenant to be brave, strong and determined. A good soldier who would readily give his life for him.

But looking at him now, he was startled by the patience in his eyes, the inviting warmth in his expression. He was ready to listen to whatever Agnarr had to say, and seemed to promise not to pass judgement. And in that moment, Agnarr truly believed in Lt. Matthias.

“I-I’m just so scared of things going wrong,” he burst out. “And I know it’s really dumb for me to be worrying so much since I’m practically nothing but dead weight today, but I just can’t help it. We’ve dedicated a year’s worth of planning and negotiations and anxieties into this dam project and building peace with the Northuldra, but there’s no telling what a traditionalist Councillor might say to the elders, or offensive gesture any other of the common folk might do, or, or…” He trailed off and fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeve nervously. As much as he trusted Lt. Matthias, he knew that even he had his limits sometimes. And telling the head of the Crown Guard that his soldiers made him uneasy would surely be pushing a boundary.

“Or?” the lieutenant probed.

Agnarr kept his eyes fixed on his cuffs, but braced himself for the inevitability of having to share his thoughts.

But instead, he heard Lt. Matthias sigh. “It’s okay,” he said after a moment. Agnarr looked up at him warily, but he only saw patience in the lieutenant’s eyes. “I’ve never wanted to force you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.” 

The wariness with which Agnarr looked at him slowly melted away, and he only gaped at him in surprise. Whenever he spoke to Father, the latter would always demand the last bit of dissent, the last of his traitorous thoughts out of him before he would be released. Although Agnarr had been getting better at concealing his thoughts, he had never been able to lie to Father’s face.

“Come with me,” the lieutenant said, turning back towards the main gathering area where everyone converged. Agnarr hesitated for a moment, and then followed after him.

They stood in the shadows of some tents that were in the process of being cleared out and taken down, in full sight of the engineers and construction builders, and their families. He heard one of the workers, a father, telling an epic story to his young children about his adventures in the Forest. Behind them was another worker, a woman and her brothers, chattering excitedly about exploring the new and unfamiliar terrain and meeting the fabled Northuldra people. Another one marvelled at the Forest with his partner, and was discussing living arrangements between the kingdom and the Forest. Overall, the general tone of each conversation was one of excitement and openness.

“I know how alone you must’ve felt in your attitude towards the Northuldra whilst it was just you and the delegation,” Lt. Matthias said from beside him. “But look around you. The people of Arendelle are ready for change. Yes, there will be a few who will cling to their old ways; speak out of turn, or act maliciously to offend. But the  _ overwhelming _ majority are excited about the peace. And no one is more worthy to drive that peace forward than you, Prince Agnarr.”

He whirled around at him in surprise. “ _ Me _ ?”

Lt. Matthias smiled. “You might think that you’re dead weight because you have none of the duties or responsibilities that the other Councillors do, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. You are the Crown Prince, the future of Arendelle, and you have thrown your whole support behind this peace. That means more to your people than you realise. And on top of that, you have already befriended that Northuldra girl,” he said.

Agnarr immediately felt his face warm up at the mention of her. “I-Iduna?” he stuttered.

Ever since that night where they watched the northern lights, the eagerness he always felt whenever he knew he was about to see her and exploded into an inexplicable desire to see her as much as he could. Of course, he had had to pull it back because of Father, but that didn’t stop him from seeking her out whenever he got the opportunity. Which ended up being a lot less than he would’ve liked, because whenever he did manage to catch her alone, she always found some way to excuse herself… 

The lieutenant’s smile became reassuring. “The Crown Prince of Arendelle, becoming friends with a close relative of one of the oldest and most respected Northuldra leaders? I know neither of you look at it like that, but the gesture will speak volumes.” Then his eyes glinted knowingly. “It may even be enough to assuage any concerns caused by the peculiarly large number of soldiers the King has brought today.”

Agnarr gaped at him, dumbfounded.

Lt. Matthias turned back towards the Arendellian families, his expression becoming inscrutable. “I made an oath to protect the King, and it is my duty to carry out his orders,” he said. “But you, Prince Agnarr, aren’t bound by that same oath. It may not feel like it right now, but one day, you will be free to make your own decisions and choose your own path.”

Agnarr looked back out towards his people, regarding them wordlessly as he considered Lt. Matthias’ words. The knowledge that he would be King one day had always lingered somewhere in the recesses of his mind, embedded within everything he did. After all, as the Crown Prince, his entire life revolved around the inevitability of his ascension to the throne. But it had always existed somewhere in a distant, foreign future, far from sight. Only recently did the subject begin to broach his thoughts and his conversations.

He wanted to be a King who would strive for the good of the many, just like his father and all predecessors before him. But he also wanted a kingdom who would open its doors to all, regardless of background or situation. He wanted to be a King who enabled not suspicion and wariness towards others, but one who inspired diversity and openness. A King who didn’t just give his people what they needed to be happy, but one who would encourage them to grow and discover their own capabilities on their own.

He wanted to be different from his father.

And yet, he couldn’t help but doubt himself.

“What if I choose the wrong path?” he said quietly. “What if I realise later down the road that I, that I should’ve chosen the path my father had?”

He felt the weight of the lieutenant’s hand on his shoulder again, and he looked up. Lt. Matthias looked down at him, his eyes full of a firm kindness. “There’s no telling what the future holds, Prince Agnarr. You will make mistakes, and you will have to deal with the consequences of those mistakes.” Agnarr’s heart immediately dropped into the pit of his stomach, and he looked away. “But,” Lt. Matthias continued, calling his attention again. “That’s all part of growing up. Sometimes when everything feels out of control and the future looks too far ahead, all you can do is the next right thing.” He offered Agnarr a small smile. “And I know that you will.”

He had always respected and looked up to Lt. Matthias, but he had also taken him for granted many times before. But he was beginning to realise that he had always been there for Agnarr; when Father had sentenced him to weeks without play for getting himself lost in the mountains, when his boat had capsized during his first solo sailing attempt, when he had been sent away from a High Council meeting on his thirteenth birthday. Every single time, without fail, Lt. Matthias had been an unwavering source of company and support. In that moment, his heart felt full and warm with something he had rarely known before. He looked up at the lieutenant, at a loss for words at how to properly express his appreciation and gratitude for how he had shown him a kind of joy that not even his own father could.

The joy of being  _ heard _ .

A servant emerged from the tent that Father and the Councillors had converged in, announcing their departure for the dam in a few minutes, and advising everyone to get ready. Lt. Matthias stepped forward to take his place at the head of the Crown Guard, but hesitated when Agnarr lingered in the shadows. He raised an eyebrow in concern. “Are you coming?”

He gave the lieutenant a reassuring smile. Although he was feeling a lot more ready for the day than he had been, he still needed a few moments to settle the last of his nerves. “I’ll be there soon,” he replied.

The lieutenant regarded him sternly. “Okay, but don’t be late,” he said. And with one last pointed look, he turned away.

“Lt. Matthias!” Agnarr called out at the last second. The lieutenant hesitated and turned towards him again. Agnarr smiled, trying to pour as much gratitude as he could into the gesture. “Thank you for everything.”

Lt. Matthias returned his smile for a moment, before turning away again and summoning his soldiers to him.

Agnarr heaved a long sigh and approached the river towards the back of the camp. He noticed it was smaller than it had been when they first arrived, but he supposed that was typical of the season, and symptomatic of the newly finished dam. It was still autumn, but the weather had been getting colder each day. He knelt down at the edge and splashed some water onto his face.

Suddenly, he heard the struggling whinny of a horse in distress. Agnarr shot to his feet immediately and whirled around, trying to find the source. There weren’t any wild horses in the Forest; whatever horse was making that sound must’ve been part of the group that the delegation had brought in this morning. One of them must’ve escaped somehow.

He heard it again and followed the sound upriver. The sheer panic in that whinny was enough to make his blood curdle. No animal should ever sound like that.

The campsite was a small distance away by the time Agnarr decided he wouldn’t risk wandering out any further. He whistled loudly, trying to call the attention of whichever poor horse had escaped their reins, but to no avail. 

Just when he decided he couldn’t wait any longer, he heard another shrill whinny—a distinct  _ scream _ —full of pain and fear, from behind him. He turned around immediately, ready to calm the animal, only to gasp in shock.

In the midst of a river stood a horse made of water, droplets of the river rushing down its head and behind in the place where its mane and tail would be. It thrashed about wildly, screaming and clambering for purchase. It looked directly at Agnarr, its eyes full of pain and desperation. Then, without another sound, it collapsed into the river in a splash of water, and all was silent.

***

“Do you think we’ll have to curtsy to your prince like the townsfolk if he comes over to talk to us?”

Iduna shot Sonja with a glare. Her sister returned her gaze smugly. “He’s not  _ my _ prince,” she snapped. She tugged at her hair uncomfortably; Elssa had tied the top half of it back in an impossibly tight updo to celebrate the occasion, and had even braided part of it like the women in the Arendellian delegation. Immediately, Sonja slapped her hand away and fixed her with a stern look.

Iduna sighed in annoyance and looked over to the forest wistfully. She had been ready to go from the moment the grand commissioning ceremony was completed, and they had all been dismissed back into the assembly clearing. The ceremony had been adapted from traditional Arendellian practices, shrouded in formalities and decorum from the symbolic gestures between the elders and the Councillors, to the pattern in which they were seated. She had always teased Agnarr and the ways of his kingdom for being stiffs, but she had never realised just how right she was about it until she saw the dam’s unveiling. Yet, there was something exciting about the formalities; the metaphorical way in which King Runeard addressed the people, and the air of mystery enveloping the whole ceremony. It was so different from ceremonies the Northuldra performed.

It was a shame her mind was elsewhere for most of it.

Today was the day of the unveiling ceremony, and the perfect opportunity to finally get some answers as to what was going on with the Spirits.

She had had her suspicions about what was going on with the Spirits for a while, but the earthquake last week had been the tipping point. The elders had managed to convince the Arendellians that it was a one-off incident, a random freak of nature that wouldn’t happen again any time soon, but everyone in her clan knew that it was more than just an irregularity. Even the other Northuldra who weren’t as attuned to the Spirits as the Lytteren were could sense that something was wrong. 

When Iduna had asked her grandmama what was to be done about it, her grandmama had simply cautioned her to keep her head down.  _ “Things are extremely delicate right now, especially with Arendelle, _ ” she had said.  _ “The last thing anyone needs is a reason to doubt the stability of this peace.” _

At first, she had begrudgingly agreed, doing her best to ignore the anxious roiling in the pit of her stomach, checking up on the elders whenever she had the chance. But with each day that she was dismissed and reminded to focus on her own concerns, she eventually realised that nothing would come of it until everything had settled down with Arendelle. The unveiling ceremony was only the start, and there was no telling when the elders would finally turn their attention back to the Spirits again. And when every fibre of her being was screaming out against her that  _ something was wrong _ , she found it more and more difficult to sit still and do as she was told.

Iduna knew when enough was enough. And if no one else was willing to find out how to fix the problem, she had resolved to do it herself. She was done with running away and hoping that her problems would go away. If something was going to change, then she needed to do something about it.

But before she could go out and enact her plan, Sonja had dragged her back to the clearing with the rest of her clan.

“He’s not  _ anyone’s _ prince,” Rikkar, the eldest of her brothers, added, looking between them warily. Then he looked over at the Arendellians, his expression frigid. “Not to the Northuldra, anyway. His title is meaningless to us.”

“So you’re not going to bow to him?” Eljes asked, a little anxiously.

His expression hardened in defiance. “No.”

Sonja rolled her eyes and flicked his cheek. Rikkar immediately grunted in annoyance and shoved her hand away. “You know, you’ll never find a wife if you keep up that insufferable moralistic attitude of yours,  _ little brother _ .”

His scowl deepened. “Stop calling me that! I’m a grown man, I’m not some little boy anymore...”

Iduna sighed tiredly and turned her attention back to the Forest. She wasn’t entirely sure what the schedule for the day would be, but she was determined to take the next possible opportunity to escape into the Forest. She had already lost a good chunk of the morning. If she was still here by midday, she would lose the chance altogether. And she refused to return home without answers.

She blew a tiny tuft of hair out of her face in annoyance and idly surveyed the rest of the clearing. Although there were many Arendellians and Northuldra who preferred to remain amongst their own, she was glad to see that most had branched out and were mingling with each other. On the Arendellian side, she spotted Agnarr talking to some of the construction workers—and snorted softly. He was wearing that blue ribbon from the first time they met, the ribbon he claimed to be the bane of his existence. She hadn’t seen him wear it since. And although she knew that it was most likely some coincidence, her stomach fluttered at the thought that maybe, he had worn it with her in mind.

_ Stop it _ , she chided herself, frowning.  _ This is exactly what we’re trying to avoid. _

Things with Agnarr were… complicated, even if he didn’t know it yet. That night under the northern lights had crossed into territory that was entirely foreign to her. On some level, she had always known that there was something different about her friendship with him than any of her other friendships, but it wasn’t until then that she realised the true depth of her feelings. She had been so caught up in the magic of the moment that she had forgotten all about the implications of what she felt. Of course, she wasn’t too worried about anyone finding out; she knew how to keep a secret when it really mattered, but she found herself resenting how she had come to this point. Things had changed between them. And now she was going to have to get used to the way her heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at her, or the surge of giddiness in her chest when he gave her his full attention. It was frustrating. Eventually, she settled with simply avoiding him whenever she could.

She watched as he looked over to the elders anxiously, before scanning the rest of the crowd. Then his eyes landed on her, and his expression brightened. Ignoring the stutter of her heartbeat, she smirked and mockingly mimed adjusting a ribbon below her throat. In what seemed to be an unconscious act, he reached up and touched the ribbon at his collar, glancing down at it.  _ “Ribbon Boy,” _ she mouthed to him. But instead of feigning being affronted like he usually did, the corners of his lips twitched into a small smile and he rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the townsfolk.

Then, as his focus returned to the townsfolk he was talking to, his eyes widened in realisation and his gaze snapped back to her. All of a sudden, he was excusing himself from his conversation and striding towards her direction with purpose. The smirk immediately dropped from her face.

“…at least try and make the effort to be polite-“

“Uh, guys?” Eljes said, glancing between Sonja and Rikkar awkwardly. “I think he’s coming over.”

_ What in Akanidi’s name was he thinking?! _

Despite how close they had grown over the past year, it was still firmly within taboo territory to reveal their friendship to anyone. There were some exceptions, of course, but it was an unspoken rule that they mutually recognised and respected. Rationally speaking, she knew that it would have to come out into the light at some point with everything going on between their people, but she had always dismissed the thought as a concern for the far future. Although the skepticism that once characterised the Northuldra’s perceptions of Arendelle had died down, the sentiment still persisted ( _ especially _ with the likes of Rikkar.) How was she supposed to react? What was she supposed to do?

Before she had time to settle on a solution, he was standing before them, smiling pleasantly. The back of her neck prickled uncomfortably, and she was suddenly well aware of the many eyes watching them curiously.

Sonja and Eljes immediately dropped into bows and curtsies, but Agnarr frowned at the gesture, gesturing for them to stand again. “Please, that’s quite unnecessary. I came over here not as a foreign prince on a diplomatic task, but rather in hopes of friendship,” he said.

Eljes glanced over at Rikkar.  _ “He sounds so posh when he speaks,” _ he muttered, looking back to Agnarr in amazement.

Rikkar snorted not so discreetly, and replied,  _ “More like a snob, if you ask me.” _

“Your Highness!” Sonja exclaimed, a little too brightly. “Forgive us, my brothers  _ don’t realise how rude it is _ for them to be speaking another language before our visitors,” she said, shooting them a glare. Eljes bowed his head in shame, but Rikkar only returned her glare defiantly.

Thankfully, Agnarr only smiled graciously. “Rest assured, no offense was taken. I know I, myself, have made my fair share of mistakes in my time here in the Forest,” he said, glancing over at Iduna. She smirked to herself—she knew exactly what he was referring to, with the crossbow incident—but quickly sobered up when she noticed Sonja looking between them, her eyes glinting impishly. “Anyway, today is a day for new beginnings and new friendships,” Agnarr continued. “Speaking of which, I suppose it’s only proper of me to start this one off with an introduction—Prince Agnarr of Arendelle, at your service,” he said, bowing his head slightly. Then he looked up, a little sheepishly. “Although I suppose you already knew that.”

“I’m Eljes,” Eljes said, stepping forward and shaking his hand eagerly. “This is my brother Rikkar,” he said, gesturing towards him. “And these are my sisters Sonja and Iduna. Sorry about earlier, I’m just a little nervous. I’ve never met a real prince before.”

Agnarr chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, the only thing special about me is the fact that I’m in line for a crown,” he replied airily.

“That can’t be true,” Sonja replied. Then she looked towards Iduna, a sly gleam entering her eyes. “Not if you’ve managed to win over some…  _ friends _ … amongst the Northuldra.”

_ Real subtle _ , Iduna thought scathingly, shooting her sister an irritated glare. Agnarr’s expression remained mostly unchanged, but she caught the flicker of surprise that passed through his features. Meanwhile, Rikkar and Eljes eyed the exchange in confusion.

“Of course, you must mean the elders,” Iduna said, struggling to keep her voice level. She turned back towards Agnarr. “You must’ve met our grand-uncle, Ivaar. He’s one of the elders.”

“Yes, of course, Elder Ivaar of the Lytteren clan,” he replied easily. “He speaks highly of all of you.”

“Does he really?” Rikkar asked, a hint of animosity in his voice. “I was under the impression that only leaders and  _ senior _ members of the delegation were privy to council meetings.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Eljes. Iduna immediately shot him a glare, and found that Sonja had done the same. He had been suspicious of the Arendellians from the beginning, but she had thought that he’d have the common decency to be civil. She couldn’t believe he was doing this now.

To his credit, Agnarr chuckled good-naturedly. “No, I suppose you’re right, Rikkar. I was acquainted with all the elders when I first arrived. And although I have gotten the opportunity to speak with them throughout my time here, I am yet to be considered a senior member of the delegation, as you so eloquently put it.” Then his smile turned wry. “I suppose you could say that in terms of tangible responsibilities, I’m a little useless.”

_ “Yeah, ‘I suppose’ you could say that,” _ Rikkar countered maliciously.

“Prince Agnarr! I’m really sorry about this, but it looks like our grandmama needs Rikkar and I!” Sonja said, plastering on a too-bright smile. She grabbed Rikkar’s arm forcefully and began dragging him away. “It was a pleasure to meet you, but we really shouldn’t keep her waiting!” Then she looked over at Iduna, a little apologetically. “Eljes, I think you should come with us too.”

“What? But I want to-”

“Eljes, I’m not going to ask you again,” she replied lightly, but Iduna recognised the warning in her tone. Eljes sighed in annoyance, but followed after her anyway, shooting Agnarr one last apologetic look over his shoulder.

When they were out of earshot, Iduna immediately turned towards Agnarr. “I’m so sorry about that,” she blurted out, embarrassed. “I wish I could’ve prepared you for that-”

“Iduna, it’s okay,” he said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Actually, it was nice to meet your siblings. I never had any siblings growing up, so I’m always eager to meet big families.”

She looked at him uneasily. “Are you sure?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. There’ll be more opportunities for us to meet under more favourable circumstances in the future.” Then his expression became serious. “Besides, there’s something I really need to speak to you about.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Oh?” she said weakly.

He nodded solemnly. “I saw something strange this morning,” he said. “When I was out by the river, I heard an animal, crying out in pain. I followed the sound until I saw a horse made of water, struggling in the river’s currents.”

In an instant, her blood ran cold. She immediately grabbed his arm and pulled him away to a quieter spot on the clearing, out of earshot from most conversations. She looked back at him, searching his gaze with focus. “What else happened?”

“It was screaming out, like it had been badly hurt. I tried to get closer to help, but then all of a sudden, it collapsed back into water onto the river.”

“Did you see it again? Or hear it again?”

Agnarr shook his head. “I had to go back after that. But even if I did stick around, I don’t think I would’ve.” He looked away anxiously, his brows furrowing together. “Something about the way it fell back into the river. I don’t think it would’ve appeared again.”

A flare of panic rose up within her, but she pushed it down. She might’ve had her suspicions about what was going on with the Water Spirit, but she shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions just yet. Still, his observation was eerily in line with her suspicions. If he, a foreign prince who knew nothing about the Forest, had come to that judgement, then she needed to prepare for the possibility that what her fears were true.

She looked back at Agnarr and found that he was already watching her worriedly. “Remember how I told you that Akanidi gave the Spirits worldly bodies on behalf of humankind?” she asked, waiting for his nod of recognition. “The Water Spirit’s bodily form is a horse, whom we call The Nokk.”

His mouth fell open. “That was the Water Spirit?”

She nodded solemnly. “I think it’s in trouble. Ever since I’ve started my training, it’s always been the weaker Spirit, the most quiet. At first, I thought it was just the seasons—the seasons affect how the Spirits behave. But even during winter, when the Water Spirit is meant to be at its strongest, it was already struggling.” She paused for a moment, watching his expression carefully. “And then I noticed—my training, the Water Spirit, the Arendellians arriving in the Forest—it all started happening at the same time.”

Agnarr shifted his weight from foot to foot uneasily. “You think that the Water Spirit’s acting like this because of us?” he said slowly.

She took in the earnest distress in features at the thought of being somehow linked to the problem, and felt her chest warm. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice becoming quiet. She looked back to the Forest, her resolve strengthening. “That’s why I need to find out.”

“Hold on a minute, what do you mean  _ you _ need to find out?”

She turned her gaze back towards him. “Look, I need to find answers  _ today _ . This has been going on for long enough, and this is the only chance I’ll have to figure out what’s happening.”

“I understand that, but why do  _ you _ have to go?” he asked, frowning. “Isn’t this a task for-”

“The elders?” she interjected, before scoffing harshly. “Who do you think I went to when all this started happening? I mean,  _ look at them,”  _ she said, nodding over to Dorste and the others, who had been talking to the Councillors all morning. “They would rather worry about what’s going on in Arendelle than their own homeland.” As she spoke, she felt a powerful feeling rising up within her, a strong sense of determination and something akin to pride. “This is  _ my  _ home,  _ my _ people that are in danger,” she asserted. “And I’m not going to watch and wait until things get worse before I do something about it.”

He nodded in agreement. “Then I’m coming with you,” he said without missing a beat.

She shot him an incredulous look. “Are you insane?!” A few heads turned in their direction and she lowered her head in embarrassment. Then she met his gaze again, firmly. “You are  _ not _ coming with me. You might get hurt.”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, but it’s okay for  _ you _ to take that risk?” he countered.

“I can handle myself,” she shot back. “I know the Forest way better than you, I think I can manage just fine on my own.”

Agnarr growled in frustration and paced a little. “I know you can,” he hissed. “It’s not about whether or not you can do it alone, it’s the fact that you’re choosing to do it that way when you don’t have to.”

She was taken aback by the fierceness of his tone, the startling vulnerability in his eyes. Despite the animosity in his posture, the fear in his expression was as plain as day. He held her gaze for a moment, holding her in place with the brunt of his emotions.

Then he stepped back and sighed in resignation, before finding her gaze again, his eyes imploring her. In the corner of her eye, she noticed his hand twitch towards her, but then he let it fall at his side again. “Look, Iduna. I know I don’t have much to offer in terms of help. I can’t sneak around the forest like you can, or understand the Spirits like you do. But you’re my friend. Even if you don’t care what happens to you, I do. If you go out there alone and, God forbid, something terrible happens to you while I’m over here in the safe parts of the Forest, I would  _ never _ forgive myself. Please.” His voice had dropped down to a low murmur. “Don’t do that to me.”

It was uncanny, the way he could command her full attention without resorting to force or aggression, but simply with a single look. With the sole act of laying himself bare before her with the confidence that she wouldn’t tear him apart. It spoke louder than any of his words, of how she meant to him, how much he cared about her. So despite her better judgement, despite her best efforts at keeping him at a distance, she couldn’t help but let him in.

She sighed sharply and stepped back— _ when had he gotten so close? _ —fixing him with a hard look. “You need to do  _ exactly _ what I say, you understand?” she said firmly, hoping he hadn’t noticed the slight anxious quiver in her tone.

Agnarr nodded vigorously. “Elders Guivi and Alinna should be coming out any second with the reindeer herd. Everyone will be distracted, that’s when we’ll go,” he said.

She nodded in agreement. “We can wait over there until then,” she said, pointing towards the spot at the treeline she had scoped out earlier. “We’re heading north, to the Nexus of the Water Spirit.”

“The Nexus of the Water Spirit?” he echoed as they approached the spot.

“Or the Bay of the Dark Sea. It’s birthplace, and one of the most sacred places in the Forest. It’s supposed to be the spot where the Water Spirit’s energy is most potent. If we’re going to find answers about what’s going on, it’s the best place to start,” Iduna explained. 

They had just reached the spot she had pointed out when sure enough, Elders Guivi and Alinna appeared over the hill with a herd of reindeer, calling everyone’s attention. Agnarr exchanged looks with Iduna and she nodded once, before turning around and heading into the forest. Without another word, they disappeared behind the treeline, into the unknown.

***

Except for the occasional warning to watch his step, they made their way through the Forest in silence. As they got further and further away from the clearing, the ground elevated into an incline, and Agnarr found it more difficult to follow after her.

The sun had almost reached its zenith in the sky, beating down on them as they practically climbed the rocky terrain. Despite the cooler weather, beads of sweat were beginning to form on the back of his neck. He looked over at Iduna, who continued to plough ahead as unbothered as ever, and sighed in concentration, pushing himself to keep up. It was the most strenuous physical activity he had ever done, but he refused to ask her for a moment to catch his breath. This was her mission, after all.

A few times, he had tried to talk to her—he understood the gravity of the situation, but the sombre atmosphere between them was a little disconcerting—but she only answered in curt replies. Even when he tried to ask relevant questions, she only brushed him off frigidly. He quickly learned to give up altogether. It was clear that she didn’t want to talk.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.

The more she pushed him away, the more anxious he felt. On some rational level, he knew that she had a lot on her mind and that she was focused on the task at hand. But this eerily cold distance between them was entirely unfamiliar to him and uncharacteristic of her. As he lingered on it, he thought about instances all throughout the past week where she had seemed more aloof than usual; how she had turned around and walked in the other direction when their paths had crossed within the settlement, her eagerness to get back to her chores when he had managed to find her privately, the way something always seemed to come up the moment he tried to strike up a conversation with her. At first, he passed them off as coincidences. But when it kept happening again and again, there was really no other way to see it. Was she avoiding him?

Iduna froze abruptly. She turned towards him with carefully guarded features. “What did you say?”

He suddenly realised he said that last part aloud.

“Uh… I…” Although her expression was unreadable, her face seemed a little paler than usual. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said quickly.

She nodded once, deflating a little in relief. Then she turned back around and continued on her way. Agnarr followed after her wordlessly, and they continued in silence once again.

But he had already brought it up. This had been bothering him for the whole week, they might as well sort it out. “Did I do something wrong?” he blurted out.

She gave him a strange look over her shoulder. “What? No, why would you think that?”

“I-I don’t know, I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me ever since we saw the northern lights, and, and I can’t help but worry that maybe I did something to upset you, or maybe it was something I said that offended you, and I-I’ve kind of been losing my mind about this over the past week because I don’t want you to be mad at me, but, but every time I try to talk to you to figure this out, something comes up-”

“Agnarr,” she interjected, pausing in her place until he caught up. His snowballing anxieties came to a halt immediately; she had used his real name again. She gave him a pointed look. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked nervously, trailing a little behind as she kept walking.

She gave him a small, reassuring smile, slowing her pace until they were walking side by side. “I promise, you haven’t done anything wrong,” she said. Then she snorted a laugh. “I’d definitely make sure you knew, if you had.”

He sighed quietly to himself, relieved. “Okay.” They kept walking for a few moments, silent. She wasn’t mad at him. That was important. That had been the main concern eating at his mind. Then he frowned. If she wasn’t mad at him, then why was she being so distant? He peered over at her, worried all over again. “I don’t understand.”

She met his gaze, confused. “You don’t understand what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing all around them.

She frowned, looking even more confused. “And what’s  _ this _ supposed to mean?” she asked, copying his gesture.

He sighed deeply. “Okay, forget that weird hand thing I just did, it’s just…” He stopped in his place and looked at her helplessly. “I thought… I-I was under the impression that we had a good time that night? I-I mean, I certainly did, I don’t want to be making any assumptions.” He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried to recollect his thoughts.  _ Get it together, Agnarr! _

He stepped a tiny step closer. She watched as he did, her expression still as confused as ever. “I like hanging out with you Iduna,” he said in earnest. “Becoming friends with you is one of the best things that’s happened to me. I mean, that’s something I’ve always kind of known, but I also came to properly… realise that? When we were watching the northern lights and talking about...” He shrugged helplessly. “ _ Stuff _ , I suppose? And, of course, I can’t speak for you and make assumptions, but I-I always thought… you liked me too?”

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she started coughing. She turned away from him and kept walking as she coughed. Agnarr immediately jogged after her. “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” she managed out between coughs. She cleared her throat one last time and the coughing subsided. Then let out a sharp sigh. “Look, I realised something too that night,” she said, pointedly avoiding his gaze. “And this…  _ thing _ … that I came to realise led me to the  _ second realisation _ that it would be best if I… kept my distance… for a while.”

“Why?” he asked, almost immediately. All of a sudden, a terrible thought came to him. “Is it because of what I told you about my father? Because if it is, then-”

“No.” She looked at him, finally. She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “It’s not him.”

“Your family, then?”

She shook her head, turning her attention back to the forest.

“Is it because I’m the Prince of Arendelle and you’re Northuldra-”

“No, it’s none of that,” she cut in sharply. Then she sighed again and met his gaze pleadingly. “It’s me. There’s some things that I’m a little… confused about. And until I can sort it out, it’s better for me to just stay away. Not forever!” she added quickly, when he frowned. “Just for a little bit.” She strode on ahead.

Agnarr jogged after her, ignoring the ache that was beginning to form in his legs. “Then why don’t you talk to me about it?” he asked. “I don’t want you to be confused because of me, maybe I can help you figure it out.”

“You can’t,” she said forcefully. “I need to do this on my own.” She picked up her pace again, but he only ran after her.

“Wait, please, I don’t understand,” he said, a cold sense of fear beginning to creep into the back of his mind. “I know you said not to worry because I haven’t done anything wrong, but it’s  _ really _ starting to sound like this is my fault, and-”

She stopped so suddenly, he almost ran into her. He stumbled a little in his efforts to keep from crashing into her, stomping heavily as he tried to regain his balance. She whirled around towards him and shushed him. Part of him wanted to keep pushing the matter; she had been running away from him the whole week and now that they were talking about it, he didn’t want to close the subject until they had come to some sort of resolution. But one look at the unyielding seriousness in her features, and he decided against it.

She turned back around, meticulously surveying the forest before them. The hair on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably and he quietly shifted a little closer to her. Something had clearly alarmed her. He tried to follow her gaze, but he had no idea what she was looking for.

“It’s the Wind Spirit,” she said in a hushed tone, her eyes never once leaving the forest.

He tried to look around, but the air was as still as ever. “I don’t feel any wind,” he murmured back.

“It’s not that, it’s-” Her eyes suddenly widened in fear. She barely had time to grab his hand and run to a nearby tree before a strong gust of wind blasted through the entire area, powerful enough to sweep them off their feet if she hadn’t managed to hold onto the tree. “Hold on!” she cried as Agnarr was lifted off his feet. With incredible strength, she pulled his arm towards the trunk. He grabbed on with a grunt of effort, wrapping his arms around it as she did the same. Shoulder to shoulder, they held on for dear life as the wind raged against them.

The Wind Spirit he knew had always been playful, in an almost childlike way, just like Iduna. Although he had only had a year to know the Forest, he had never imagined a Spirit as gentle as the Wind to rage so aggressively against them. He held on as tight as he could, but the gale didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. He could already feel the strain on his arms. They couldn’t keep holding on like this forever. They had to find a way to get out of this safely.

All of a sudden, a memory from the night under the northern lights resurfaced. He turned his head to look at Iduna. “Your aurora!” he shouted, fighting to be heard against the wind.

Her eyes widened in realisation. She released the trunk with one arm and cupped her hand around her mouth, her features hardening in determination. But just as she opened her mouth, the wind abruptly changed, as if it had sensed the opening she had created when she let go. It pushed against the opposite direction and they were both whipped sharply to the left. The suddenness of the change caught her off guard, and she screamed as she lost purchase on the tree.

In an instant, he let go with one hand and grabbed her wrist. He let out a shriek as his body was yanked to the left, a sharp pang of pain flaring up in his right shoulder. His grip on the tree was rapidly slackening. With a grunt of effort, he tried to pull them both back to the tree, but he didn’t have the same strength she had, and was wrenched back, his fingers all but slipping off. In a moment of desperation, he looked to her helplessly. “I can’t hold on!” he cried.

Finally, his arm gave out and they were both sent flying. Ignoring the stab of pain in his shoulder, Agnarr pulled her into him and cradled her head with his other hand, doing his best to protect her. They tumbled over rocks and shrubbery until he registered the ground again, and some sort of hill. He held on tighter as they rolled down, no longer propelled forward by the wind but by the force of gravity and their momentum combined. Eventually, he felt the ground even out. He focused all his weight onto the other direction and they began to slow to a stop.

For a moment, he lay there on his back, too terrified to let go. “Are you okay?” he croaked out.

Immediately, Iduna scrambled out of his arms and sat over him anxiously. “Am  _ I _ okay?! You just took the brunt of that fall, are  _ you _ okay?!”

He tried to sit up but as soon as he put weight on his right arm, he hissed in pain. He reached over his chest for his shoulder. Her expression immediately sobered in concentration and she helped him sit up. She peeled his jacket back and pushed his undershirt off of his shoulder—and gasped.

He quickly pulled his clothes back on, biting back another hiss as he moved his arm. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” he said roughly, fighting to keep his voice even.

“Your shoulder looks like it’s been sprained,” she said, fixing him with a glare. “Spirits, I  _ knew _ I shouldn’t have let you come-”

“We’ve already had this discussion,” he cut in, giving her a pointed look. “This was my choice.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, and look at where that’s gotten you,” she said acidly.

“I  _ knew _ what I was getting myself into,” he replied, keeping his tone calm and level. “And I still don’t regret it. If it was a choice between me and you, all alone out here and hours away from everyone else, the choice is obvious. Besides, we need to keep going,” he said, struggling onto his feet.

Before he could take a step, she grabbed his good arm and held him back. “Oh no, we’re going right back to the clearing. You need to get some help for your shoulder,” she said, dragging him in the other direction.

He pulled his arm out of her grasp and whirled around to look at her, stunned. “What?! But we’ve already come so far, we can’t just turn around now!”

She met his gaze resolutely. “ _ You’re hurt _ ,” she said, enunciating each word. “We need to go back.” Then she took his arm again and began leading them away.

“Wait!” he cried out, scrambling for anything that would get her to stop. To his surprise, she paused. He watched the rise and fall of her shoulders as she let out a sigh and she turned around, regarding him tiredly. He took a step closer. “How far are we from the Nexus?”

A beat of silence passed. She held his gaze thoughtfully, as if she was tossing between indulging his question or not. Finally, in resignation, she replied, “We’re close. It’s just past that mountain over there.” She pointed somewhere behind him and he followed her finger; sure enough, a mountain towered above the treeline, just a few hundred metres away. Dark clouds spread forth over the sky from above the mountain, as if a storm was brewing over that spot.

He looked back to her, wordlessly imploring her. Then, after a moment, he added, “It took us the whole morning to get here. And we’re only an hour away now.”

Her expression was still tired, but some of the hardness to her eyes seemed to soften. “An hour and a half,” she corrected.

Agnarr raised his eyebrows at her expectantly and she caved, letting out a sharp sigh of exasperation. “Fine! We’ll keep going. But we are heading back  _ as soon as possible _ for your shoulder.” Then she tugged her scarf out from under her hair and gently positioned his injured arm across his chest, wrapping it up in a makeshift sling. She looked at him sternly. “No excessive movement. And you tell me  _ right away _ if it starts to hurt more than usual, okay?”

In spite of himself, he couldn’t help but smile at her worry. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes, but he saw the poorly concealed fondness in them. She began making her way up the incline they had just fallen from, but at a much slower pace than she had been before, shooting him worried glances over her shoulder every so often. When she wasn’t looking, he tested out his other limbs and his core for any other injuries. But (miraculously) he was unscathed except for the throbbing on his shoulder and some minor aches from the descent. He supposed it wasn’t his first time, he thought wryly. He did survive the Fire Spirit, after all.

After a while of walking, she paused long enough for him to fall into step beside her. “This is not an invitation to talk—I really need to focus now that we’re so close—but I just wanted to say thanks,” she said, almost begrudgingly, keeping her eyes ahead. “For doing that, back there.”

If it weren’t for the way her features were set in concentration, he would’ve teased her more and made her admit that he was right to insist on him coming along. Instead, he settled on giving her another small smile. “I’ve always got your back,” he said. 

He thought about their conversation earlier before they got caught in the Wind Spirit. The big part of him that hated leaving things unfinished, that would work tirelessly until he came up with a better solution, wanted to bring it up again. He probably would’ve, if she hadn’t all but asked him to be quiet. Still, he wanted a way to tell her that he hadn’t forgotten about it.

“Wherever you need me,” he added. “Whether it’s falling through metres of forest, or if you just want to talk.” It was subtle enough not to open up the subject for discussion again, but would hopefully reassure her when the thought crossed her mind again. 

She looked over at him, her eyes unreadable. “When we get back,” she said, her voice quiet and firm. “We’ll talk about it then.”

Agnarr nodded slowly, surprised by how easily she had read him, and they fell into another lapse of silence. Soon enough, she began forging ahead again, but not as quickly as to leave him behind. Not that he minded. He fell into step behind her, content to let her lead the way. Once or twice, he idly wondered what exactly she was doing that required her full attention, how she seemed to know exactly where to go, and entertained the thought of asking her. But he always pulled himself back at the last moment.

After about another hour of travelling, Iduna stopped again and let him catch up. They had reached the base of the mountain. There was a path that wound itself up towards the top, but it was narrow and set unevenly with rocks. By this point, they were close enough that he could smell moisture in the air, the telltale precursor of rain. His stomach churned uneasily.

Iduna looked over at him, watching his features carefully. “The Bay of the Dark Sea is just on the other side,” she informed him. Then her eyes softened when she looked at his shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

His feet were aching more than they had ever before and the muscles in his legs had exhausted their strength a long time ago. But they were so close. Surely, he could muster enough strength to walk the final stretch. “I’m fine,” he said after a moment. “Let’s keep going.”

For a minute, she held his gaze. It was clear that she wasn’t convinced. But nevertheless, she started up again, stepping onto the haphazardous path at the base of the mountain.

Soon enough, he could hear the ocean.

It was a wild roaring of water crashing against itself, a tempest that refused to be tamed. The sky grew darker as they approached, and his skin tingled uncomfortably with electricity. The clouds were becoming denser the further they went on, increasingly blocking out the sunlight. Although it was the middle of the day, it was as black as night.

Iduna forged on ahead of him, deftly finding her footing around the jagged edges of the stony path as they climbed towards the bay. He did his best to keep up, but he was struggling along the rocky terrain of the path. Thankfully, she would glance at him over her shoulder every once in a while and slow down to let him catch up before moving forward again.

Finally, they crested over the summit, and the Dark Sea came into view.

“The Nexus of the Water Spirit,” she said solemnly. “The stories say that Ahtohallan lies on the other side.”

Agnarr had never been afraid of water before. In fact, he had always leapt at any opportunity to sail whenever Father needed to travel to their allies. But staring down into the heart of the Forest’s rivers—the glimmering black water, the monstrous rise of each wave, the ferocity of which the ocean crashed against the shore—he suddenly felt sick to his very core. A cold and eery sense of foreboding washed over him, chilling his bones and sending shivers down his spine. The oceans he had encountered, although not always calm and easygoing, were filled with an abundance of coral and algae and sea creatures. But looking at the sea looming before him, he couldn’t imagine there being any life within its depths. 

That night under the northern lights, Iduna had told him that many men and women had perished in their efforts to find Ahtohallan. This must’ve been where they were lost. In a moment of morbid curiosity, he imagined himself caught in those mammoth waves, being snatched under and swept out to its depths. An inexplicable sense of  _ wrongness _ settled deep in his chest.

“This is all wrong,” he said aloud, fighting to keep the uneasiness from his voice.

“No kidding,” Iduna agreed, her voice uncharacteristically cool and reserved. She began to climb down into the bay. Agnarr lingered at the summit for a minute, trying to settle the anxiousness in his stomach, but to no avail. He watched as Iduna effortlessly climbed down the path on the other side, and sighed shakily. Gathering his nerve, he followed after her.

When he reached her on the sand, her features were hardened in concentration. She regarded the water with steely desperation, the face of someone who was hoping with all their might that the thing they feared wasn’t coming true right before them. He stood beside her wordlessly casting apprehensive glances at the sea.

“It’s silent,” she finally said, her tone a mix of disbelief and fear. “The Water Spirit; I don’t hear it at all.”

He didn’t like how afraid she sounded. “What does that mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

She looked at him properly, the fear in her eyes no longer concealed. His heart leapt in his chest at the sight. “It means it’s gone dormant,” she said quietly. “I was hoping that it was only struggling to be heard over the other Spirits, but this is the one place in the world that would block everything else out—and I can’t hear it, I can’t hear it at all, there’s nothing-”

“Slow down,” he said, moving to stand right in front of her and ducking his head to meet her gaze. Despite the roiling distress within him, he kept his features calm and collected. He didn’t need to be adding onto her panic. He held her gaze wordlessly for a few moments, waiting for the wild look in her eyes to abate a little. “If it’s dormant, can’t you just wake it up?”

She shook her head helplessly. “Dormancy is more than just ‘sleep’; it means that the Water Spirit has grown too weak to ever come out again. The Spirits were created out of eternity, and they can’t die or be killed. But a Spirit going silent is practically the same thing. It throws everything off balance, the Forest would be in chaos.”

_ The Forest would be in chaos _ .

Something clicked in his mind and he looked at her in realisation. “The Fire Spirit attacked me just a few weeks ago. Then there was that earthquake last week. And just now, the Wind Spirit. What if all that happened because of the Water Spirit?” he asked.

She considered his words for a moment. “I think you’re right,” she said. “If one of the Spirits is weaker than the others, the others become more unstable. It’s happened before when one of the seasons go on for a little longer or shorter than the others, but never to the point of a Spirit going dormant. I…” She looked away shamefully, utterly dejected. “I don’t know what to do.”

Out of all the firsts he had seen from her today, this was the absolute worst. The hopelessness in her features, the dark look in her eyes; it reminded him too much of himself after he had endured the worst of his father’s wrath. He needed to do something to make her stop feeling so terrible.

He reached for her hand, immediately calling her attention to him. As she met his gaze, he poured as much reassurance and support into the look he gave her. “We’ll go back to the clearing,” he said, his voice steady and determined. “We’ll go straight to Chief Dorste and the other elders, regardless of what they’re doing. This is far more important than whatever political arrangement they’re dealing with. We’ll tell them exactly what’s going on. They’ll know what to do.”

Little by little, he watched the hopelessness lift from her features, replaced instead with a firm determination. She nodded a little hesitantly at first, then more vigorously as she found her resolve. “Yeah,” she agreed. “The elders will know what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUN FACT: i was originally gonna make this part one of a two parter like chapters 4&5, but it got so ridiculously long that i decided to split it. i feel like it stands on its own as a chapter anyway?? ik things are a little slow here, but we all know what's coming next 👀
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed!! as always, let me know what you guys thought, i love hearing from you guys!!
> 
> OBLIGATORY TUMBLR PROMO


	7. the original language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She put her hand in her grandmama’s palm. “I am an Aurora of Akanidi, and I will go where I am summoned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna try to keep this brief because i'm literally seconds away from passing out (it's almost 2am in my timezone and i am NOT a night person 💀) but hello!! i am very much still alive 😌 i am also aware that it's been literal MONTHS since i last updated so if you're still following this story, i see you and i appreciate you so incredibly much <33 also, i apologise in advance again for any spelling/grammar errors or weird sentences, i really wanna get this chapter out for you guys before i pass out xx
> 
> if you need a quick refresher, the last update left our two heroes reeling from the discovery that the water spirit had been silenced 👀👀👀

Agnarr knew that something was wrong even before the clearing appeared into view.

When the trees and paths began to look familiar again, the ground suddenly lurched forward. With a shriek of surprise, he lost his balance and stumbled forward, nearly falling face first onto the ground if Iduna hadn’t caught him. The force of the quaking shook the trees all around them, sending leaves and branches falling dangerously close to them. He felt a burst of heat at his back and heard the roar of flames coming to life. Iduna looked at him, her eyes wide with panic. “Run!”

She grabbed his hand and pulled them along, weaving through falling branches and cutting around rock piles that were slipping downhill, racing along cracks that had opened up on the ground and jumping over bits of forest floor that had pushed upwards with nimble grace. Every muscle in his body was aching from almost an entire day’s travel on foot and his shoulder was throbbing again, but he ran after her with renewed energy and focus, driven by the sheer need to survive.

Together, they burst past the treeline and into the clearing… 

To find Arendellian soldiers and Northuldra warriors in fierce battle. The ground was already littered with the fallen, and the clanking of swords against staves pounded relentlessly against his ears. His breath caught in his throat.

Before his mind could even catch up to what he was seeing, he heard Iduna let out a sharp scream beside him before he was shoved roughly aside. Their hands were yanked apart as he stumbled, and he saw two other Northuldra dragging her away. She was struggling against them fiercely, screaming out in Northuldrian, her wild eyes locked on him. “Agnarr!”

His senses immediately slammed back into him with restored focus; he needed to get back to her. “Iduna!” he screamed back, chasing after her.

But before he could so much as take a step, he felt a strong grip on his good shoulder and he was pulled back. “Get behind me!”

Seconds later, Lt. Matthias’ shield clanged near his face as he intercepted a stave from an attacking Northuldra warrior. Agnarr cried out as the sound filled his ears with a high pitched ringing, and he cringed away. Then he felt himself being shoved backwards again as Lt. Matthias positioned himself before him, pushing the warrior back firmly with his shield and slamming the hilt of his sword against his head. In an instant, the warrior crumpled to the ground, groaning and unconscious.

He barely had time to register what had just happened when he was running again after the lieutenant towards the path leading to the horses. “What happened to your arm? And better yet,  _ where have you been _ ?!” Lt. Matthias demanded over his shoulder, barrelling over another warrior that had come to intercept them. “Everyone except for the King and the Crown Guard were evacuated a while ago, everyone’s been worrying themselves to death trying to find you…”

But his voice soon faded away into the chaos as Agnarr finally took in the scene of battle all around them; arrows of all kinds soaring through the air, the foul and pungent stench of blood overwhelming his senses, and most horrifying of all, the remains of the fallen, strewn about the clearing where Arendellians and Northuldra had declared peace.

He tore his gaze away before he saw anything else and focused on running. “What happened here?” he dared himself to ask.

“They attacked us,” came Lt. Matthias’ grim voice. “When we were all distracted, when we had our guard down. They turned around and betrayed us.”

_ No _ . He couldn’t believe it. The Northuldra people had welcomed Arendelle into the Forest with friendliness, they had made it a priority to get to know each and every delegate on a personal level, they had always greeted him with warmth whenever he saw them in passing. The people he knew were nothing like this vicious group of warriors, attacking without warning. He thought he understood the Northuldra; he had learned so much and come to appreciate so much about them over the past year. But seeing them in the thick of battle; they matched every description those outdated books in the library held perfectly.

It couldn’t be true. They never would’ve attacked unprovoked. There had to be another reason. There had to be a way of fixing this without resorting to violence.

Suddenly, just a few paces away from the entrance of the path, a warrior leapt onto Lt. Matthias. The lieutenant barely had time to turn around and realise what was happening before he was stumbling away, struggling to pull his shield up into position. Before Agnarr could even react, he felt a rough hand on his bad shoulder. He cried out in pain as he was forced to turn around, and he came face to face with a warrior, his stave poised menacingly above her head.

“Prince Agnarr!” Lt. Matthias screamed from behind him.

In the next moment, Lt. Matthias was slashing at the warrior’s hand, forcing him to drop his weapon, and slamming his shield against his opponent’s face. The impact was enough to send the warrior stumbling a few steps backwards, before collapsing on the ground.

Lt. Matthias stood in front of him completely, his eyes narrowed as he scanned the immediate area around them. “Protect the Prince!” he bellowed.

Immediately, a handful of Arendellian soldiers within earshot broke away from the main cluster of warriors and managed their way over, forming a loose circle around him and warding off incoming warriors from all sides.

It was all too much. Beneath him, the earth continued to rumble. The clamour of battle raged all around him; the clanging of metal as weapons were raised against each other, the booming voice of commanders shouting orders in languages that were both familiar and unfamiliar to him, endless screaming from the wounded laying under the heat of the sun, helpless to do anything but await their death. Agnarr tried to close his eyes and block it out, but to no avail. He got the feeling that it would take more than closing his eyes to forget everything he had already seen. His heart was slamming against his ribcage and his throat seemed to constrict as he stood there, utterly helpless.

“Stop,” he rasped out. He ran up and tried to pull a soldier back, but he was easily shrugged off and forced back. “Stop!” he cried, trying to find his voice. None of the soldiers around him paid him any attention, each carrying on with a single-minded focus on the battle. He watched in horror as one of them landed a blow on a Northuldra warrior’s leg and forced her backwards, away from the small crowd that had amassed around him. The Northuldra warrior immediately cried out in pain and fell to her knees. The Arendellian soldier advanced relentlessly, knocking her stave from her hands, opening another gash across her cheek. He raised his sword.

Time seemed to slow down as Agnarr realised with heart-stopping clarity what was about to happen.

In a single moment, a million thoughts passed through his head; the stony and unyielding face of his father— _ his King _ —ordering him to stand down and do as he was told, the stark disappointment seemingly forever etched into his features every time Agnarr had done something out of turn, the surge of fear that took over him every time he considered the prospect of venturing out on his own without Father to tell him what to do… 

And yet, there was also the wonder upon seeing the Forest for the first time, the firm handshake he had shared with the elders in this same clearing, the way Iduna had reprimanded him for his prejudice against her people. The deep sense of peace he got waking up to the sounds of the Forest over the past month, the excited buzz amongst the delegation and the elders at the prospect of the dam being ready so soon, the warmth in Iduna’s eyes that night under the northern lights… 

_ “One day, you’re going to go out into the world and make those calls for yourself.” _

_ “No one is more worthy to drive that peace forward than you, Prince Agnarr.” _

_ “As their sovereign, our primary responsibility is to make decisions for the good of the many.” _

His father might’ve been ready to throw away months of diplomacy and preparation by sanctioning—what was in his eyes—a needless battle with their longest-standing enemy. 

But he wasn’t.

Before he knew it, he found himself surging forward to stand before the Northuldra warrior. The Arendellian soldier’s eyes widened in shock and he quickly adjusted his aim, his sword slicing through the air to his left. Agnarr stood his ground and met his gaze with the full force of his determination. “Enough!” he commanded, his voice resonating through the crowd of soldiers and warriors that had formed around him. He looked at each of his soldiers fiercely, daring them to disobey. “I order you all to stand down!”

For a moment, both Arendellians and Northuldra stood there speechlessly, staring at him in a bewilderment. Then a Northuldra warrior straightened up and faced him properly, his expression hardening. “You have no authority over us,” he growled. “You are no prince to the Northuldra.”

Despite the burst of panic at his imposing figure, Agnarr forced his expression to remain unperturbed. “You’re right,” he replied, keeping his voice controlled. “But I have no wish to fight. And I will use the authority I have to protect that.”

One of the soldiers shifted uneasily, shooting him a look with thinly veiled frustration. “Your Highness, with all due respect, we have our orders-”

“My orders are indisputable,” he interjected, with strength he didn’t know he had. He fixed the soldier with a stern look. “Lower your weapons and stand down.”

“But Your Highness-”

“ _ Stand down _ ,” he said firmly, his glare intensifying.

Lt. Matthias was the first to cast his sword aside. He regarded Agnarr with uncertainty, but nodded in support. Soon enough, the other soldiers followed. All the while, the Northuldra warriors watched the scene unfold in astonishment.

“You are a foolish prince,” came a voice from behind him.

He turned around and saw the warrior he had thrown himself in front of, glowering at him with such intensity, he almost shrank away. In spite of the sorry state she was in, he immediately knew that she was a force to be reckoned with. With what must have been an excruciating effort, she pushed herself into a sitting position. “You dismiss your only means of defence before a tribe of warriors with no loyalty to you or your meaningless Crown.” Then she spat at his feet. Immediately, he heard the scuffle of movement from his soldiers behind him, but he gestured for them to stand down. He held her gaze, unflinching. “You are a foolish prince, and if you survive this, you will grow into an even more foolish king.”

“Perhaps,” he replied coolly. “But I would rather die a foolish prince than survive to be a king who owes his life to meaningless bloodshed.” He turned to the rest of the crowd, regarding them all definitely. “I refuse to let another life perish on my account. Regardless of which side the loss comes from.”

There was silence as both Arendellian soldiers and Northuldra warriors stared back at him, their expressions a mixture of shock and thinly veiled hostility. Then, although they continued to glare at him scathingly, he watched as the hateful gleam faded from the eyes of each Northuldra warrior. One by one, they straightened up and lowered their staves.

Never before in his life had he felt so overwhelmed with relief. For the first time all day, the knot in his stomach that had only been worsening began to unfurl. The damage was already too great to undo, and many lives had been taken. But not all had been lost. However tenuous, however deeply it was buried beneath all the bloodshed, the desire for coexistence still remained. There was still hope for healing.

But truces were extraordinarily delicate, prone to breaking at the slightest movement. It was unfair, how easily best laid plans could fall apart; months of peace-building efforts, or even moments of tenuous bargaining in the midst of battle. And the reckoning blow that would forever splinter two nations that had once dreamed of friendly relations and mutual cooperation came in the form of a voice, crying out in the distance.

_ “The King is dead!” _

It came from a wounded soldier, a hoarse declaration which could barely compete against the clamour of the battlefield. But it was enough to shake the foundations of Agnarr’s entire world.

There was a ringing in his ears, growing louder and more incessant by the second. His vision began to blur in and out of focus, and suddenly, he found it impossible to breathe.  _ No _ , he thought weakly as he registered movement all around him.

The rest of it came in fragments.

Being pulled along by his good arm, until he wasn’t anymore. An eruption of bright pink flames all around him. Covering his head and struggling to stay upright as a powerful surge of wind raged against him. A boulder, three times his size, hurtling towards him with alarming speed. A sharp burst of pain against the back of his skull, and the world going dark.

And finally, an enchanting voice, singing out in the rapidly fading haze of his consciousness.

***

Iduna could pinpoint the exact moment the fighting had begun.

They had just crossed into familiar territory; there was the great willow tree where she and her cousins used to play after training, and the row of cloudberries that bloomed in the spring. Her mind was still full with what she had just realised at the Nexus, but she kept her panic at bay with a single-minded focus on finding Dorste. And now that she knew what had happened, she was more receptive to moaning of the Spirits as they made their way back through the Forest, like a dull ache in the back of her mind.

Then, without warning, the faint moaning exploded into a fury so powerful, it took everything in her not to fall to her knees. She suddenly felt as if she was yanked underwater, and she was struggling to break through the surface. It overwhelmed her senses like a sharp blow to the head, and for a moment she could do nothing but stand there and wait for the roaring to subside.

The next sign was when the ground began to tremble, and flames began to lick at their feet.

It was then that her instincts took over. Without another moment to waste, she grabbed Agnarr’s hand and raced through the Forest. There was that familiar rush of adrenaline as she listened out for the Spirits’ demands and let her body carry her to safety, but there was none of the thrill or excitement of the chase that usually came whenever she encountered the Spirits this way. Instead, there was only the incessant beating of her heart and a sharp focus on getting out of there alive.

But some things, you need to see to believe. And despite her apparent sinister ability to sense the worst before it had happened, she refused to entertain her suspicions until she and Agnarr burst past the treeline and back into the clearing.

It was worse than she could’ve ever imagined. People she had known since birth—the man who had taught her brothers how to fish, the woman who always smelled of rosemary whenever she came by to talk to her mama, the boys she had played with as children at the end of the day—they were all assembled together as warriors, fighting and bleeding against an army bearing a crest she had learned to trust. Bodies had already begun to cover the floor, and she looked away immediately, fighting back the burning acid bile at the back of her throat. She could hear the clanging of swords against the warrior staves, and the sickeningly familiar  _ whiz  _ of arrows, soaring through the air with power and speed that could only come from crossbows. Against her will, she remembered the unbidden thought that had arisen at the sight of Agnarr’s crossbow all those months ago; what it would take for Arendellian soldiers to turn a weapon with such destructive power against her people. Never in a million years had she thought she would find out.

_ “She’s over there,” _ a rough voice said, somehow cutting through the clamour of the battle.

Before Iduna could even turn towards its source, somebody had grabbed her other arm. She let out a scream of protest as she registered two hooded figures in Northuldra clothing at her side, violently pulling her away. Her hand was yanked from Agnarr’s grasp and she was being dragged away with enough force to make her arms hurt.

_ “No, you can’t take me away! Let me go! Please, let me go!” _ she screamed at her captors. She tried to kick at their legs, pull her arms free from their grips, but they only held on tighter, undeterred. She looked back to Agnarr wildly, and found him watching her, his expression paralysed with shock. “Agnarr!” she screamed, fighting with every fibre of her being to get back to him.

At that, he seemed to snap out of his stupor. His features contorted in panic and he began to run after her. “Iduna!” he screamed back, his voice breaking with desperation. But before he could get far, Lt. Matthias pulled him back. The last thing she saw of him was a Northuldra warrior leaping towards him, her weapon poised to attack.

She cried out in fear and desperation as she was led into an empty spot within the forest, and fought back against her captors with renewed purpose. “ _ Let me go! _ ” she begged. She kicked at the figure on her right and landed a blow on their shin. 

Immediately, they— _ he _ —growled in frustration and roared, “ _ Alright, that’s enough! _ ” He moved in front of Iduna and pulled his hood down to reveal Jovsset, who looked down at her scathingly. “If you kick me  _ one more time _ , I swear, in Akanidi’s name,  _ you will live to regret it _ , Iduna.”

In an instant, all her panic melted away and she stood there, gaping at her cousin. “ _ Jovsset?! _ ” she said incredulously. “What are you doing? Why are you kidnapping me?”

The second figure released her and stood next to Jovsset, pulling their hood down. “We have been summoned,” her grandmama said, her expression solemn.

Her barrage of complaints immediately dried on her lips, and Iduna pushed down her panic. “Summoned?” she echoed. “Like in an… Aurora way?” She looked between Jovsset and her grandmama in a mixture of surprise and awe. From the moment she learned what an Aurora was, she had been firmly instructed not to try to find out who they were. She had tried to abide by that rule, but that didn’t stop her and her friends from speculating who they might be. Of course, that curiosity only compounded when she discovered her own aurora. But as she grew older, she accepted the fact that she would probably never find out who the others were. Auroras were rarely ever summoned, and usually one at a time. And they were never summoned altogether except for exceptional circumstances… 

Iduna frowned and looked back towards them both, suddenly very worried. “Why do they need all three of us?” she dared herself to ask.

Her grandmama’s expression sombered, and she regarded both her and Jovsset. “Dorste went missing at the outbreak of the battle. Only Ahtohallan knows where he is, or whether he’s still alive. But the other elders were still able to assemble and pass on a summons for the three of us.” She paused for a moment. Iduna thought she saw hesitation flicker through her features, but it was gone so quickly, she doubted it was really there. “The Spirits have turned against us all; several earthquakes wrack the Forest, bushfires wreak havoc throughout our settlement, and the Wind Spirit rages amongst it all. In order to protect the Northuldra, we have been ordered to silence them.”

Iduna’s heart immediately dropped into the pit of her stomach.

“ _ Grandmama _ , with all due respect,  _ we can’t do that _ ,” Jovsset replied, clearly struggling to keep his voice level. “Our whole duty as descendants of Lytteren revolves around protecting the Spirits, without them we’ll-”

“ _ We will survive _ ,” her grandmama interjected harshly. “Yes, our Forest will no longer be mystical and magical, but the Northuldra will survive. We know how to sustain ourselves without the aid of the Spirits.”

“But we’ll be trapped if the Spirits go silent!” Iduna burst out. “No one will be able to leave the Forest again!”

“ _ And _ no one will be able to enter again,” her grandmama countered. She regarded them both keenly. “Many of Arendelle’s townsfolk and Councillors have already managed to escape. But as soon as they’ve nursed their injuries and recovered, they will be back with the full force of their army. This is the only way to keep them out.”

Iduna thought about all the Arendellians still caught up in the midst of the battle, and her heart broke. Once the Spirits were silenced, they would never be able to go home. They would be trapped in the Forest with the rest of the Northuldra; even if they managed to survive within the Forest, they would surely perish at the hands of their warriors. And  _ Agnarr… _

“Come, we have wasted enough time,” her grandmama said, snapping her out of her thoughts. She held out her hands to both of them. “Will you both step up and do your duty?”

Iduna looked down at her feet morosely, fighting back the horrible feeling that was beginning to rise within her. When she had realised her aurora, her grandmama had warned her that a day like this would come. That one day, she would be called to go against everything she had ever known and do her duty. It was a test of character, she had said, to be able to turn her back on her own beliefs and predispositions in order to protect the Northuldra. She had always believed that she would have time to prepare for that day, to grow into the person she needed to be. But she had never imagined that she’d be forced into such a situation so soon.

Jovsset stepped forward and placed his hand in her right palm. “ _ I am an Aurora of Akanidi, and I will go where I am summoned.”  _ It was the oath of the Aurora. Once it was made, there would be no rest for him until he had completed what he had set out to do.

Her grandmama nodded in approval. Then they both turned towards Iduna, watching her expectantly.

It was all happening too quickly. The unveiling ceremony, the Nexus, the battle… it was as if she was struggling to keep her head above water. She needed a moment to breathe.  _ Spirits _ , she hadn’t even fully wrapped her head around the Water Spirit yet… 

“I need to tell you something,” she said, looking back at her grandmama. Her grandmama and Jovsset exchanged glances, but they looked back at her. “I went to the Nexus of the Water Spirit earlier today to find out what was happening with the Spirits.” Then she looked away, a little bit ashamed. “I know you told me not to,  _ Grandmama _ , but I-”

“What did you find?” her grandmama cut in. Iduna looked back at her, surprised by the anxiety in her voice. 

She swallowed down a lump in her throat and went on. “The Water Spirit… it was dormant.”

She watched as the blood drained from both their faces. Jovsset shook his head in disbelief. “No. That’s impossible. Last week, I could hear the Water Spirit in my meditation…”

“And yet, it has been weaker than the others as of late,” her grandmama finished, looking out over the forest gravely. She turned her gaze back towards both of them. “It doesn’t matter anymore. What’s important is that we act now. The other Spirits must already know, and they will not take too kindly to being forced to meet the same fate as their kin.” She turned towards Iduna again, holding out her hand. “Iduna, you must make the oath. Will you step up and do your duty?”

Iduna simply stared at her grandmama’s outstretched hand, before hesitantly raising her gaze to her grandmama’s face. Both her and Jovsset watched her with carefully guarded features, but there was a sense of urgency, of steady determination, in their eyes. The faces of those who were ready to defend their tribe at the risk of their own lives.  _ This is our duty _ , they seemed to say.

At that moment, Iduna saw the situation through their eyes. The task was grim and went against everything their clan stood for, but it would also bring salvation to the Northuldra. This was their home, their people, that was at stake. Whatever personal objections they were meaningless against that. There was terrible dread in the task that lay ahead, but there was also honour and reverence in the role they had to play.

_ This is my duty _ , she thought bitterly.

She put her hand in her grandmama’s palm.  _ “I am an Aurora of Akanidi, and I will go where I am summoned.” _

A cold and solemn feeling washed over her, settling deep in her chest. She swallowed hard as her grandmama nodded in approval. “We must stay together,” she instructed, looking between her and Jovsset. “The Spirits will fight back when they realise what we’re doing. The only way we will be able to do this is if we stay together.”

Iduna kept her eyes fixed downwards, keeping her features carefully impassive. Try as she might to accept the task that lay ahead, to reconcile herself with what she was being summoned to do, she could not shake the horrifying sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Her people would continue to survive in the Forest, but she couldn’t imagine the fate that lay before the Arendellians. If not hunted by the warriors, then to be trapped within a people who weren’t your own, forced to forever be an outsider longing for the life you once had… it was a cruel fate. She prayed to the Sun and Akanidi that Agnarr had managed to make it out by now.

Then, her grandmama began to sing.

Iduna was taken aback by the startling timbre of her voice, both entirely her grandmama’s and entirely otherworldly. Her voice held depth that Iduna didn’t know she possessed, reverberating throughout the Forest with profound volume and solidity. Immediately, the Earth Spirit rose up to meet her, shaking the earth beneath them sluggishly, fighting to topple them over. But before they could, Jovsset stepped forward and called out.

His aurora was bright and full of power, and his voice cut through the chaos of the woods with a dynamic energy unlike any that she had heard before. Despite the stark contrast with her grandmama’s aurora, his voice complemented hers perfectly. His song called the Fire Spirit into being, exploding onto the scene in a burst of bright pink on a nearby bush, but it pulsed erratically as it tried to creep towards them, struggling to advance. Meanwhile, the trembling of the Earth beneath them slowed even more.

All of a sudden, a powerful gale swept through the trees, almost forcing the three of them back. Although her grandmama and Jovsset continued to call out with their auroras, the force of it was almost enough to drown out their voices as they tried to compete with the roaring of the wind.

Instinctively, Iduna struggled forward and cupped her hand around her mouth to call out to the Wind Spirit, a lilting tune as light as the air itself. But rather than singing songs of play or summons, she mournfully coaxed the Wind to sleep. Compared to the howling wind and the power and depth of Jovsset and her grandmama’s auroras, her voice should’ve been easily drowned out amongst them. But her song was infused with magic from Ahtohallan itself, echoing over the roar of the Spirits with enchanting clarity. Almost in an instant, the gale began to subside.

As her grandmama and Jovsset found their footing again, their voices blended together seamlessly, resonating throughout the forest with volume that neither one of them could have possibly possessed on their own, yet were able to produce together. A sound produced entirely with human voice, but also imbued with an ethereal quality that could not be found in any ordinary human voice. Iduna found herself in awe at the sound, and fixed her attention on it. It helped distract her from the roiling uneasiness within her.

They moved through the Forest, calling out with their aurora. Whenever there was a Spirit who threatened to overpower one of them, the other two would step up and ward it off—when Iduna had nearly been swept away by a rampaging hurricane, when her grandmama had nearly lost her head from a boulder flying right towards her, when a stray ember had set Jovsset’s sleeve alight—the other two were ready to call out until the Spirit had stilled again. They easily fell into a rhythm, listening closely for where the Spirits had claimed next, pacifying them as quickly as they could.

Eventually, the Spirits led them back to the clearing where the fighting was most concentrated. Iduna cringed when they emerged past the treeline again, her voice faltering from the sheer  _ chaos _ ; the boundless anger of the Spirits, the screaming of men and women in the throes of battle, the thick scent of blood. She almost turned away, but her grandmama and Jovsset forged onwards, undeterred. She steeled her nerves again and followed after them, fighting to regain her focus.

“ _...I would rather die a foolish prince than survive to be a king who owes his life to meaningless bloodshed.” _

Her heart leapt up into her throat. She stopped in her tracks and turned towards the voice, praying with every fibre of her being that she misheard. But to her horror, she saw Agnarr on the other side of the clearing, standing protectively over Yelana, glaring at the Arendellian soldiers poised to attack. Panic suddenly exploded within her.  _ What in Akanidi’s name was he still doing here?! _

“What are you doing?” Jovsset hissed, his fiery gaze bearing down on her. “You need to  _ focus _ , Iduna!”

The roaring of the Spirits, the clamour of the battle, the horrible task that still lay ahead of her, Agnarr trapped within the Forest… it was all  _ too much _ . There were too many things going on, too many things to keep up with. Iduna felt like she was being pulled in too many different directions, stretched too thin to the point of breaking apart. She had tried to take things in stride as they came, tried to keep the snowballing uneasiness at bay, but the truth was, she didn’t have the strength to keep up. Her heartbeat roared in her ears and her vision began to grow blurry at the edges. She suddenly felt very light-headed.

Then, cutting through the uproar of her mind and her surroundings, an all too familiar voice cried out in the distance. When the dust cleared, she saw Agnarr with his head propped against a rock, unmoving.

In a single moment, it was as if she had finally broken through the surface of a powerful tidal wave. Then, an impossibly cold, white fear, greater than anything she had ever felt in her life, surged through her, coursing through her veins, emptying her mind of all else but  _ his eerily still body…  _

Before she could fully comprehend what she was doing, she was rushing towards him with every shred of strength in her limbs, thundering across the clearing like a wild hurricane on a warpath. She vaguely registered Jovsset and her grandmama yelling something from behind her, but their words were warbled, white noise. Arrows flew overhead, and warriors and soldiers alike stumbled into her path, but she merely shoved them aside and kept going, her gaze fixed solely on him.

_ Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay… _

By some miracle, she managed to make it to his side unscathed. She let out a strangled gasp when she reached him; his face was pale and lifeless, and there was a thin trickle of blood running down his temple. She immediately moved his injured arm aside and put her head against his chest and waited for what seemed like an eternity… 

A pulse.

It was extraordinarily faint, and she had almost missed it amongst the clamour all around her. She sobbed in relief and let her head fall back against his chest, still reeling from the harrowing prospect of him being dead. Sniffling, she sat up again and roughly wiped the tears from her face. With shaky hands, she tore off a piece of her sash secured around her waist and gently dabbed at the blood on his temple. She cradled his head for a moment, her chest swelling with immense relief.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. Then she gathered him in her arms, holding onto his hand as tight as she could.

With newfound focus, she emptied her mind of all other distractions and reached out to the Wind Spirit. Almost immediately, she registered its presence all around her, but it ebbed out of her consciousness erratically. She felt a pang of guilt at its weakness; this was her doing. Hesitantly, she cupped her hand around her mouth. “ _ Please, don’t let him die here,” _ she begged.  _ “If not for me, please come for him.” _

Then, she called out with her aurora, pouring all her anguish and fear into her song.

At first, nothing happened. Iduna let out another sob, utterly heartbroken, and murmured her final apologies to his chest.

Then, without warning, a strong gale rushed upwards from beneath her, shakily lifting her off her feet and carrying them out of the clearing. She watched in complete shock as the Forest passed by beneath them in a blur, and she pulled Agnarr closer. The wind trembled around them, struggling to carry them both. Iduna called out again, singing a song of strength and freedom. She wasn’t sure if it would help; she had never used her aurora to empower the Wind Spirit before. But then again, she had never in a million years imagined that she would use it to silence it, either.

Soon enough, they reached the border of the Enchanted Forest, where the four massive runestones bearing each of the Spirits’ symbols stood guard. Iduna had only been to the border once. In the exact centre of the entrance, a single wagon and horse bearing the royal insignia remained.

With a great effort, the Wind Spirit lowered them down onto the back of the wagon. As soon as it had deposited them, it collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion, before quickly shooting back through the trees. Iduna watched it go dolefully, feeling guilty all over. She didn’t even get the chance to apologise for what she had done to it, or say thank you.

Suddenly, she saw a burst of bright pink flames emanating from the midst of the Forest, before it disappeared altogether. In the back of her mind, she felt the Fire Spirit go silent. Her stomach churned uncomfortably as she tried to reach out for the remaining Spirits, but there was no sound from the Earth Spirit either.

She swallowed down the rapidly compounding shame within her and turned her attention back to Agnarr. When she was sure he was secure, she leapt off the side of the wagon and made her way over to the front.

_ “Iduna!” _

Every cell in her body suddenly froze. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She recognised the anger in that voice as clear as day, and she knew that she was beaten. She turned around.

Jovsset stood a few paces away, anger simmering in his eyes. Beside him stood her grandmama, her features as impassive as ever. Iduna watched helplessly as his gaze shifted beside her to where Agnarr lay. Then, in a painstakingly slow movement, he turned back to her, his expression twisted in outrage.

“ _ This _ is the reason you  _ abandoned _ your post?! This… traitorous  _ invader _ … is more important to you than your  _ own people _ ?!”

His words were like a powerful blow to her gut. “Jovsset,  _ please _ -”

“You  _ disgrace _ the sacrifice of the men and women back there,  _ fighting for your life _ ! How  _ dare  _ you?! Our warriors—brave men and women—are  _ bleeding and dying _ for you, and  _ this _ is how you repay them?! By turning around and, and…  _ plotting the escape _ of our enemy?!”

“I wasn’t plotting!” she screamed back, her vision growing blurry. “He’s was going to  _ die _ , and-”

“ _ And many of our men and women have already perished at his swine of a father's hand!” _ Jovsset roared back. Then he rose to his full height and glared down at her hotly. “The death of your own people is hardly enough to sway you to action, but the very  _ moment _ this  _ scumbag prince _ so much as hits his ridiculously  _ delicate _ head-”

_ “ _ Jovsset _.” _

His expression immediately calmed, although the fiery anger in his eyes remained. He stepped back and looked at their grandmama apologetically, shooting Iduna one last scathing glare.

Her grandmama stepped towards her, her eyes unreadable. “Come back to the clearing with us, Iduna,” she said coolly. “All that remains is Wind, and only you can silence it. Leave the boy. Fulfil your duty to Akanidi, and all will be forgotten.”

Jovsset looked at her incredulously. “ _ Grandmama _ , you  _ can’t _ be serious-”

“Silence!” she snapped at him. He shrank back immediately, his mouth slamming shut. Her grandmama turned back towards her, but instead of coming face to face with her grandmama’s usual steely gaze, her expression was twisted with anguish. “Iduna,  _ please _ .”

She had never seen her grandmama, this formidable and powerful woman, look so vulnerable, so  _ terrified _ , before. In an instant, her heart broke.

Iduna was only eight years old when she had first seen the four grand runestones that lay at the border of the Forest. It was days after her birthday when she discovered that she could call upon the wind by singing a special song. When her grandmama found her playing with the breeze, she had taken her to the runestones immediately, with the promise of something special. It was at this spot that Iduna first learned what it meant to be an Aurora, to face the unknown, to have a duty.

An overwhelming sadness welled up from deep within her as her mind finally caught up with her actions. She was paces away from crossing a border—literally and figuratively—that she would never be able to return from. Her entire life—her family, her people, her home—were within the Enchanted Forest. And mere moments ago, she had been ready to give all of that up on a whim. She hadn’t even stopped to consider the consequences. She had been so caught up in getting Agnarr to safety… 

She looked back at him, his unconscious figure lying helplessly in the wagon, and felt as if she was being ripped apart. Without help, he would never survive to make it back to Arendelle. She took in the dried bits of blood at his hairline, the pallor of his face, her scarf, now soiled with dirt, securing his injured shoulder in place, barely concealing the Arendellian crest on his outer garments.

_ “As an Aurora of Akanidi, it is your duty to defend the Forest and all children of the Sun.” _

All of a sudden, the deep anguish swirling within her at the prospect of having to choose between them stilled. In a moment of heartbreaking clarity, she realised what she had to do.

Iduna turned back towards her grandmama, her heart heavy. “You once told me that one day, I would have to give up everything I’ve ever known in order to carry out my duty. That it was a true test of character, to be able to turn against my innermost desires and beliefs at any given moment, for the good of us all.” She faltered for a moment and looked away. “I never believed I could do it. I could never be strong enough to make that kind of sacrifice,” she admitted quietly. She looked back towards the both of them. “But now, after everything that’s happened today, I think I understand,” she said, a sense of calm acceptance washing over her.

Her grandmama seemed to deflate in relief and the bite in Jovsset’s expression softened, and the grief that had begun to settle in her chest only spiked.

In an effort that took all her willpower, she stepped back beside the wagon. “The Northuldra will survive without the Spirits. But Prince Agnarr won’t survive without me,” she said, her voice strangely cool and collected. “That’s why I’ll silence the Wind Spirit as soon as we’re clear, and then-” Her voice cracked with emotion and she looked away for a moment, fighting to regain her composure. “And then I’ll bring him back to Arendelle.”

Jovsset was the first to react. “Have you lost your damn  _ mind _ ?! You would give up  _ everything _ for  _ him _ ?!”

Iduna met his gaze steadily. “Yes,” she said. “I would.”

Jovsset stared at her in shock. For once, he was utterly speechless.

“Iduna, there is no turning back from this,” her grandmama said, her voice full of desperation, her eyes wide with panic. “You will never be able to return to the Forest, to your home, to  _ us _ -”

“ _ Grandmama _ .” Iduna approached her slowly. Her grandmama stared back at her, her eyes glistening with tears. Iduna almost faltered at the sight; she had never seen her grandmama cry before. Not when she broke her hip after a terrible fall down a hill, not when she had lost all her belongings to a pack of wolves one night, not when Dorste had declared her husband to have passed. Seeing her now look so completely  _ defeated _ was almost enough to change her mind about her decision.

But she had a duty. And no matter how impossible, how painful it was, she needed to honour it.

She stood in front of her grandmama, feeling like she had already lost a piece of herself. “I’ll be okay,” she told her, her voice trembling as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

At that, her grandmama let out a quiet sob and engulfed her in a hug. Unable to hold back any longer, Iduna wrapped her arms around her and cried into her shoulder. She took in the warmth of her embrace, the solidness of her body, the scent of cloudberries, one last time, committing every single detail to memory. Her grandmama held her tight, stroking her hair just like she did when she was younger. “I never doubted that you’d grow into a brave and strong woman,” she whispered. “I’m so proud of you, Iduna.”

All too soon, Iduna forced herself to let go and step away. She turned towards Jovsset, who regarded her with an expression that was impossible to read. He approached her warily.

“I still can’t in good faith support any of this,” he said firmly. Then the hard edge in his features softened incrementally. “But you are old enough to make your own choices, Iduna. And if this is what you believe you need to do, I won’t stop you anymore.”

Iduna nodded in gratitude at her cousin and her mentor. Despite the numerous times they had butted heads in the past, she still cared about him deeply. Once upon a time, she would hope for the day that she’d be free of his lessons, that she wouldn’t have to endure his biting lectures anymore. But now that she knew she would never see him again, she felt an odd kind of melancholy. “Thank you, Jovsset,” she said.

She stepped back and looked at the Forest one last time, and fought back another onslaught of tears. She had never imagined that she would ever be here, saying goodbye to it for good. Then she turned back towards her grandmama and Jovsset. “Please tell Mama and Papa that I’m okay,” she said, her voice breaking. They both nodded.

Then, without another word, Iduna turned around and climbed onto the front part of the wagon, urging the horse onward towards Arendelle.

***

As if it already knew what was to come, the Wind Spirit descended near her before she had even sung out the first note of her aurora. It swirled around her sluggishly, pleading her with its remaining strength. Her heart had already been broken in a million different ways today. Surely, she had already seen the worst.

How wrong she was.

Seeing the Wind Spirit, the eldest of the Sun’s children and her first ever friend, grovelling before her with barely enough energy to agitate the leaves on the ground… it tore at her all over again. It pushed at her hand gently, begging her to let it be. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, hoping it could understand the honest sorrow in her words. Then she cupped her hand around her mouth and sang out one last time.

_ Just beyond the Forest’s borders, there lies a worn down path of stone and earth that has been trampled by many feet. When the path is followed across the fields of wild grass and thorned flowers, there stands a mighty cliff, almost high enough to reach the heavens. Below the cliff flows the River of Arenfjord _ ,  _ winding through the great fjord. And on the other side of the river stands the great kingdom of Arendelle. _

She repeated Agnarr’s directions in her mind, eager for something to focus on, for something to block out the immense sadness that had threatened more than once to consume her.

_ Just beyond the Forest’s borders, there lies a worn down path of stone and earth that has been trampled by many feet…  _

Maybe one day, the Spirits would awaken again. One day, if the  _ Mother Sun _ ever saw fit to send Akanidi again, the mist that now covered her beloved home would be lifted, and her people would be able to laugh and play amongst the Spirits as they once did. And maybe, if the  _ Mother Sun _ found her worthy, she would be granted the opportunity to pay her penance for all the hearts she had broken, all the grief she had caused, and all that was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that is the last chapter 😢 but if you are allergic to sad and hopeless endings like i am, don't worry!! i have an epilogue planned which, if things go to plan, should be coming out within the upcoming week (fingers crossed). thank you again to every person who's read/liked/commented throughout this whole fic, you guys are so cool and amazing it's making me blush 😩


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